The Legend of Zelda: Shadowed Roots
by Tempest Bound
Summary: "Why such a long face when we're being summoned to the army?" Rated T for violence and blood.
1. Prologue

Prologue

The town is quiet, silent. The pale, creamy light of sunrise creeps across the housetops. A man steps out of his house near the edge of town, his sword thudding lightly against his back in its scabbard, the insignia of the Royal Army etched into the medal attached to his shoulder. He glances at the rising sun, squinting, slipping down a side street, reappearing beside another home and knocks on its door.

Another man answers, slinging his scabbard over his shoulder. He's frowning at the soldier at his door, closing it with more force than required.

"How are you, Alo?" the soldier says, jabbing a joking elbow into the other man's arm. "Why such a long face when we're being summoned to the army?" The man's hair is blond, tied tight in a small ponytail.

Alo frowns deeper, rubbing absently at his arm. "Dellon, do you think Yew is...being unfaithful?"

"Yew?" laughs Dellon. "Being unfaithful? You know she adores you."

"Yeah." Alo sighs. "I guess so."

The silence stretches on; they pass the main gate, saluting the guards as they pass, before Alo says something again.

"I think something might be wrong with the baby."

"Oh, you're full of great thoughts today, aren't you?" Dellon sighs. "Why do you say so?"

Alo shrugs, hunching his shoulders, tugging on his military issued cap until it engulfs his short black hair. "She was in pain the morning, holding her stomach. She threw up before breakfast."

It's Dellon's turn to frown and he glances at Alo. "She should probably see the healer, then. You sure it isn't just morning sickness or the baby kicking?"

Alo shakes his head. "She didn't feel sick, just threw up suddenly. And you know it's not far enough along; she's only as pregnant as Mella is." Here he grins at Dellon, but the smile is gone quickly. "The baby isn't kicking yet."

"Oh," Dellon says softly, smiling at the mention of his wife's name. "We'll be first time dads together, eh?"

"Yeah." They start through a stand of trees. "But—"

Dellon shushes him, freezing. After a moment, he whispers, "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what—"

There's the sound of a breath releasing, a grunt, and Dellon drops to the ground, a throwing knife sunk to its hilt between his shoulder blades. Alo ducks, and the next knife flies past.

There's no time to help Dellon, who is coughing—_is that blood? Dear Hylia_—before pain blossoms in Alo's side. Are the knives poisoned? The wound burns as he tips over and slumps to the ground, hands grabbing for his wound.

There's a laugh. "Good shot!" A woman appears from the foliage, another on her heels. The first, a soldier not from the Royal Army, prods Dellon with her boot. He doesn't react. "Lord Ganondorf will be happy we didn't encounter much trouble."

"What trouble?" the other woman laughs, placing a foot on Alo's side as if to roll him over. She removes her foot after a moment, leaving a dusty print on Alo's jacket.

"Let's go report." They reach down and jerk the knives from the bodies and the tree the missed one hit. They leave the two men there for dead, bleeding out. The wood goes silent again.

Then a grunt and cursing.

Alo pushes himself to his knees, panting, one hand coming away from his wound bloodied. It goes back quickly, tugging at his shirt and pressing, hard. He stays that way for a minute, breathing harsh and eyes glassy, before staggering to one foot.

He reaches for Dellon, but he already knows. He's dead, no longer breathing, and, when Alo checks, his pulse no longer beats a rhythm against Alo's shaking finger. He triple checks and stares into his dead friend's eyes.

How is he supposed to tell Mella?

He grunts as he gets to his feet, removing his hand from his side for a moment to wipe his eyes, lurches to the edge of the forest, stumbles along the path they took, staggers to a stop ten feet from the gate, and slumps to the ground.

He passes out to the sound of footfalls.

* * *

Alo wakes to find his wife by his side, his abdomen wrapped tightly.

"Oh, you're awake!" Yew exclaims. Her eyes are bloodshot and wide, probably like his, and she runs to the door to shout, "He's awake!"

The healer, a withered old man named Yarrow, comes in with fresh bandages and some sort of herb. Mella, Dellon's pregnant wife and who will replace the healer if he dies, follows him with a bowl of soup, and she is the last person Alo wants to see at the moment. Her face is hopeful and he will have to ruin it.

The first question out of Mella's mouth is a shaky, "Where is Dellon?" Her hand is on her stomach, rubbing circles. "Is he okay?"

But of course—_of course_—she knows, because he would be here, in this room, or perhaps in a neighbor's home, resting and healing but very much _alive_, if he were 'okay'. But he's not and never will be again.

And all Alo can muster is a small, sad, slow shake of his head.

So odd that such a tiny gesture smashes the hope on her face so easily. Devastates without effort.

Mella clutches at her heart with one hand and her stomach with the other, sobs racking her small frame, bending her over her knees. She cries and screams and Alo swears the entire town can hear her. Yew remains frozen, unblinking, by her husband's bedside, and the healer simply bows his head and prays.

Only later does anyone think of sending someone to fetch Dellon's body.

* * *

**Tempest Bound: This is replacing my other Zelda story. A complete and utter overhaul. I want to get back into fanfiction, as well, so...**

** And before anyone asks, this particular story takes place early in the chronology, but where I won't say, since it might give away some spoilers.**

**Hope you enjoy!**


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Today's the day. The day Link has been waiting for and dreading every second of his eighteen-year life, every breath, every beat of his quivering heart.

And like everyone else, he joins the group of perhaps fifteen or twenty or thirty others—really, how could he count when his limbs shake and he's busy ducking his head? But people immediately pick him out and point and laugh and jeer.

Runt he is called and while he may be shorter than many his age, that isn't the reason. He's stunted—his ears, rather. Crooked and flawed and stunted. How could one hear the messages of the gods with ears like his?

He would like to hide them with his amply-long-enough hair, but that hair is _too_ long, in fact, too long to be let free around his neck, and so he keeps what can be kept in a small, lopsided, choppy—and, well, stunted—ponytail. Even like this, his bangs are a mess in his face, his blond hair tangling easily and often coming loose.

So he's left to ducking and hunching his shoulders, hoping no one will bother noticing the town freak. But they always do.

Link lags behind the group, head bowed and slouching, and he hears the laughing again. No one shouts runt, so he's forced to look up and he almost sighs in relief—but he calls himself weakling and coward before he can.

Walking amongst the group, hardly batting an eye but occasionally a bully, is Sepia, the _other_ freak. The boy with the one crooked ear and the mismatching eyes. His one unkinked ear softens the teasing, but does nothing to silence it. His good ear twitches and Sep glares over his shoulder at Link.

Link has the strangest feeling, as if he were staring at someone with an arm too large for them, and he can almost feel himself tilting his head to compensate. A red and blue gaze is unsettling. Sep turns his uneven eyes elsewhere.

Ahead is Hylia's Temple, the group's destination. All the other seventeen-and-eighteen-year-old's chatter increases for a split second, before silencing as a priest and priestess appear.

As they near—Link can hear the tramp of boots and the whisper of cloth, the beat of his racing heart—everyone bends a knee and bows their head. Before long, the Temple's courtyard is nothing but a sea of kneeling bodies, rows of teenagers evenly spaced apart, like they would practice as children in their games.

Link knows the priests are already making their way through the crowd, sceptres passing over heads, searching for the Goddesses' choices. When found, this young man and woman will become the Priest and Priestess of Hylia, vowing to uphold teaching and tradition, leaving the rest to do what they will with their lives.

And that means the Royal Army for Link, like his father before him, but he prays that that won't have to happen. He isn't one for blood and gore—and some might sneer 'action, as well'—and so he hopes.

There's commotion at the head of the crowd, and Link looks up, has to lean back on his heel to look over people in front.

Crouching, before a very startled priest and priestess, is a Sheikah. Link can't tell whether it's a boy or girl.

The Sheikah rises, simultaneously shaking blond bangs from its face while pulling down at the cloth covering its mouth, and speaks. "Do not worry," it says, and Link judged it to be young, perhaps his age. "I am simply here to guard this gathering. I showed myself so you may know I am here and—"

The priestess' sceptre jerks in front of her, the point towards the Sheikah, who draws twin short-swords. The priestess is stammering incoherently, something similar to an apology, before the sceptre shakes and falls from her hands.

"Why do you draw you weapon against me?" the Sheikah demands, kicking the sceptre away with a boot. "Speak!"

The priestess is shaking from head to foot, a mess of nerves. "I-I didn't—didn't _mean_ to, I swear—" She swallows, glancing at the crowd, most of which has risen to better see the spectacle. "It r-reacted to you—Youth of S-Shadow."

The Sheikah blinks red eyes, stance frozen, face stone. "What?"

"You're—well, it can't be true—"

"_What?_" the Sheikah presses, stepping towards the priestess, who whimpers and cowers.

"You're the new Priestess!"

It's as if the silence is deafening, because all Link can hear is an absence of sound—a giant, empty lack _of_.

The Sheikah—female—shakes her head, still not lowering her swords. "I am a Sheikah." She looks at the gaping crowd. "Not a Hylian."

The priestess nods quickly. "Yes, I know, but the sceptre has chosen you, with the blessing of the Godd—"

"The sceptre lies." The Sheikah's red eyes are hard, and her odd features seem to testify to her statement. Who ever heard of a Priestess of Hylia with scarlet eyes? "I am a Sheikah. We do not belong to the Hylian race."

But the words seem only there to protest and not reassure, or if they are, they fail. The crowd is uneasy and shifting nervously. The priestess and the Sheikah stare at each other, but finally the Sheikah sighs, sheaths her swords, and stands to the side, where she will be joined by the Priest-to-be.

Girls begin leaving; they toss dirty looks at the Sheikah, who stares coolly back, unflinching. _What's the use of staying,_ the girls seem to mutter, _if someone's already been chosen?_

The priest clears his throat, loud enough to be heard over the fading din of the departing girls. "Yes, well, this is unusual, but the Goddesses never lie. Let's continue on, then."

The priestess remains with the Sheikah, her job done. Link bows his head and waits, and waits, and waits.

"This one!"

Everyone rises, stretching on tip-toe to see who has been chosen. Link's heart sinks—it isn't him. But when he manages to peer over the heads of the others, he has to hold in a cheer.

It's Sepia. The _other_ freak.

Link can feel the growing disbelief and anger of the other boys, but all he can think of is how happy it was Sep instead of one of their bullies—perhaps, even, that it wasn't him. Sep is wide-eyed, a strange sight with his mismatched gaze, and he smirks at Link after a moment.

Link grins back and follows the others to the Army subscription office.

* * *

The line is relatively short—only five people stand in front. Link suppresses a smile, bows his head, and tries his best to hide in plain sight. No one bothers him. Maybe they're too shocked or angry about what just happened to make a joke at his expense.

When Link stops in front of the desk, he looks up from his boots. An obviously bored woman greets him with a sigh.

"Yes?" she drawls, grabbing another sheet from a pile by her elbow. "How may I help you?"

"I'm here to...sign up?" Link says, voice quiet to his own ears. He's about to clear his throat and try again when the woman thrusts the sheet and a charcoal pencil in his face and tells him to fill it out.

They're simple questions and easy to answer, finished within a few minutes. He fills it while sitting as far away from the other boys, waits until they leave before getting up. He hands the paper back to the woman, who reads it quickly and files it away.

"Come back tomorrow for training," she says, in a voice that clearly says this conversation is over.

Link opens his mouth, about to say that he thought it took more than that to get into the Royal Army, but she returns to her work and doesn't look up when he sighs and leaves the office.

Only then does he realize he still clutches the pencil in a tight fist and rushes back, stammering an apology, to give it back.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Link's mother sees him off the next day with tears in her eyes. "You're just like your father," she says, as if it were a bad thing.

"I love you, too, Mom," he tells her.

She hugs him, hard, and holds his head between her hands. "You look just like him, too."

Link pulls gently at her wrists, but she stands on tip-toe and he sighs and bends so she can kiss him on the head. When she does let go, Link's hair is coming loose of its tie and he has to fuss with it for a minute more.

He has to run to the office.

* * *

Behind the office is a training ground.

When Link shows up, he's lead there with the others, a group of trainees his age, who are tested individually to see what weapon they'll take up. Link is given a wooden sword and shield, since he's never held one before in his life, but watches the archers with a jealous eye.

Then he's put through drills that leave him aching and panting. He's certainly not out of shape, but his arms and legs begin to shake by noon.

Apparently Link's grip is too hard or too loose, his stance too rigid or too relaxed, his stab lazy or over-exerting. He can't bring his shield arm up fast enough, he can't parry the blows that come too quickly, can't land a single hit on his instructor. He's mottled with bruises and on his knees by sunset.

Link assures himself the others are just as bad, that he can't be _that_ terrible. After all, he's the one to cut and fetch the firewood for his street. He's strong enough to reduce a tree to splinters and to do so all day, once a week, and bring back the remains. He's not in bad shape.

Either way, Link's muscles scream as he trudges home.

* * *

Link returns to training the next day, nevertheless. He's aching all over, especially since he had to haul firewood for another three hours the day before. He notes that there are less people than yesterday. Specifically, two girls and three boys haven't returned.

At mid-day, as they're coming back outside from lunch, there are no instructors. Instead, the woman from the registration desk greets them, face red and brow sweaty. "Your training is cancelled until further notice," she says, and Link grits his teeth against the nasally sound of her voice.

She's probably a good person, he reminds himself.

"You may continue to practice here," the woman continues, raising her voice against the growing confused chatter of the group, "using the dummies or sparring with each other. Thank you for your attention." With that, she ducks back into the building.

A girl calls after her: "What gives?"

"_I_ heard," sneers Drae, a boy wielding a two-handed sword, a weighted prop, having advanced ahead of everyone else, "that there's _trouble_."

"Yeah?" the girl, Lea, asks, turning towards him. Everyone has gone silent to listen. "What kinda trouble?"

"_Well_," Drae says, smiling at the attention. "Apparently, Hyrule Castle Town's been _attacked_ and they needed reinforcements. Like our instructors."

The group explodes with voices, protests, questions. Drae stands among them, grinning like a fool.

"You know what we should do?" he says, louder. "We should go _help_."

Lea snorts. "And get killed? As if. You can barely hold a sword, boy."

Drae simply grins wider, slinging an easy arm across her shoulders. "Hey, I can fight better than most the soldiers in the _Royal Guard_."

Lea tries shrugging his arm off, fails. "Then why'd you fall square on your butt yesterday, eh, Mr. Soldier?"

People laugh and Drae's face darkens with a pale blush. "I was going _easy _on the guy. Didn't want him to feel bad in front of his friends, right? And, come on, you know what would happen if we helped and _won?_"

Lea frowns. "Well..."

"We'd get promoted, _that's_ what."

"We'll get _killed_, that's what," she snaps.

"Okay, you know what?" Drae says. "We'll snipe them."

Lea simply laughs along with the others. Drae reddens further.

"Come on, guys," Lea says. "Let's leave Mr. Hero here to his death wish." Laughing, they spill from the training ground and through the office door.

Drae's plan and train of thought is just like his attack tactics, Link muses. He's known for blocking at the last possible second, hardly dodging, going out of his way to show off, pulling off acrobatic stunts as often as possible.

He's also one of the first to be out of breath. He's foolhardy.

Link would say something, but his face is flushed and he's thinking about the times Drae has made fun of him. Besides, who's to know certainly that Castle Town's been attacked? He could just arrive to a normal, bustling market. No use sticking his neck out for a plan obviously never even going to begin.

Drae sees Link standing there, wide eyed, and drops a helmet on his head none-too-kindly. "Get dressed, runt. We're playing Hero today."

Link's face goes blotchy-red. "B-But we could get killed—"

Drae's eyes are alive, sparking, and his face is pink with a forced grin. He laughs harshly. "Come _on_, wimp. Most soldiers come back from duty."

"Y-Yeah," Link stammers, "but they have numbers—"

"The Legendary Hero certainly didn't have numbers," Drae says, walking away. "And he was up against a _Demon Lord_."

Drae pulls chainmail from the shelves, tunics, gauntlets, a real, two-handed sword. And Link simply gawks at the helmet as he pulls it off.

It isn't a helmet, but a cap like his father used to wear, long and triangular, pale blue instead of green, the edge armored to protect the wearer's forehead and nose. By the time Link looks back up, Drae, along with everyone else, is gone. The gate swings on its hinges, left open by Drae when he left.

Drae will back out, he assures himself, glancing back down at the cap. He'll come back, realize the plan was faulty to begin with. Link wouldn't even feel terribly bad if Drae decided to mock him for staying behind. He would be alive and unharmed.

But, Link thinks, looking around, what to do to pass the time until then? He realizes he's forgotten his sword inside, curses his forgetful self, and runs to fetch it, tucking the cap under his arm absently.

Link pushes open the door. How long has it been since Drae's left? It's a two hour jog to Castle Town. He's probably only been gone for fifteen minutes. Link places the cap on a seat while he searches for his sword. It takes him a few minutes, but soon he's stabbing at a dummy.

Fifteen minutes pass. Thirty. Link glances at the gate Drae took, skirting the office building, but he doesn't return. Another fifteen minutes. Link abandons the sword, gut twisting with worry.

_Where's the cap?_ he realizes, eyes darting around. Did he forget that in the office, too?

When Link ducks his head through the door, he spots the cap sitting on the chair he left it upon. He sighs and walks in.

"What are you doing?"

Link jumps, whirling around. It's the woman, again sitting at her desk. "I, uh, I—"

"Stop stuttering," she snaps. "Where is everybody?"

"Is it true that Castle Town's been attacked?" he blurts.

She blinks. "Where did you hear that?"

"Drae—Drae said it, before..."

"Before _what?_"

Link smiles hopelessly, ears reddening. "Before he left...?"

The woman freezes, eyes widening. "They did _what?!_" She jumps to her feet, runs for the door. "Oh, Hylia—!"

Link's tries saying that it's only Drae who went, but his voice catches in his throat.

She must see the missing weapon and armor, because she returns, face panicked. "Oh, Dear Hylia! I was wondering why that cap was here—Oh, Din!" She sprints out the front door.

Link stands, frozen, unblinking, hardly breathing. It's probably been two hours since the group left.

And Hyrule Castle Town really had been attacked.

Link doesn't know what to do, so he sits down, dazed, on a chair. He fidgets. He twiddles his thumbs. Plays with the pale blue fabric of the cap. Accidentally kicks his sword, sending it skittering across the floor, and gets down on all fours to retrieve it from where it stopped under the woman's desk. He flips the wooden sword, handle over blade, for a few minutes before realizing the woman won't be coming back today.

So Link gets to his feet. Puts the shield and sword back at their places. Where is Drae? Did something happen? He stares at the door as he closes it, concerned that he can't lock it, before letting go of the doorknob and trudging home in the dark, knowing he won't sleep tonight.

* * *

His mother is asleep when he comes home, and he leaves before she can wake up. He doesn't want to talk about it.

The door to the office is unlocked when Link gets there. The woman isn't here, but the desk is tidied up. Perhaps she left for the moment.

Link spots the cap on the same chair and is about to put it away, but then there's voices. He panics, grabs the cap and ducks out the back door and slides down to the ground against the wood.

"—he dead?" asks the woman's voices. Link can hear her rummaging in her desk.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," a man says, "but the...trainee, was he? He's dead."

There's the sound of a chair being pulled back suddenly freezing. "Are you sure? Did they...did they find the body?"

Link murmurs, "He's _dead_. Oh, Farore." But he can't be dead. Not Drae, who could barely keep his mouth shut. Oh, _Goddesses_, he's already thinking about him as a _was_.

"What about the others?"

"They stayed behind." The woman sighs. "I've checked where they're staying. They're alive."

"Who are they? Could I speak with them? It would be so helpfu—"

"Do so on your own time," the woman says, voice hard. "They have assignments, thanks to this incident. See?" There's the rustle of paper, the whisper of cloth.

"Oh." A beat. "Yes, I see. I'll talk to them when I can, then."

The front door opens. Footsteps, the clank of armor. Link's hopes rise. "I need—did I interrupt?"

Link deflates but has to resist the urge to peek through the window.

_Why is Sepia here?_

* * *

**Tempest Bound: Uh, hello? ^^' Don't expect such quick updates. This was done, so I thought, why not? **


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The room beyond the door is quiet. The woman speaks first. "Was there something you needed?"

Link hears Sep clear his throat. "Uh, yeah, Ms. Tandy. Would you know where I could find the cap?"

Link can feel the cloth of it in his hands. He curses, gets as quietly as possible to his feet, making towards the shelves and racks along the building's wall.

Tandy laughs. "I should've guessed, with the get up you have on. It's—" She stops. "Well, it's probably in the back."

"Thank you."

Link chokes back a yelp as the door opens, staring back at the mismatched eyes of Sep. He smiles nervously and holds out the cap. "Uh, hi...Sep."

Sep closes the door behind him, eyebrows furrowing. "What are you doing here?"

"What are _you_ doing here?" Link stutters, blushing. "Especially like..._that_."

Sep rolls his eyes, snatching the cap from Link's hands. He frowns at it before putting it on. Dressed in long-sleeved chainmail shirt-tunic, a pale blue tunic, a chest plate etched with swirling designs, gauntlets, and cloth wraps around his forearms, hands, calves and feet, Sep looks more soldier than Link does. He flashes a white-toothed smirk.

"You like?" he says. "It's my Priest uniform."

"But..."

"Looks like I'm a warrior, eh?" Sep laughs. His black hair is tousled under the cap's metal, pressed against what looks like red war paint on his cheeks. "Looks great on me."

Link shrugs nervously. "I guess so."

Sep's eyes narrow. "What were you doing here? Were you hiding?"

Link blushes. "No, no, I _wasn't_—"

Sep grins, reaches for the doorknob, twists and pulls. "Ms. Tandy, did you want to speak to Link? He's back here."

Link is almost hyperventilating, spluttering. He tugs on Sep's arm, who simply smiles, shakes him off with a rattle of mail, and disappears into the building.

Link opens his mouth, face reddening, but Tandy's voice cuts him off.

"Link, is that you? Come in here."

Link sighs and ducks into the room. A man stands before Tandy's desk, looking a bit flustered. He wears the usual soldier's uniform—green tunic, chain mail, belt, white long sleeved, turtle necked shirt and leggings that disappear into leather steel-toe boots. Two medallions are tied to his upper arms, one inscribed with the symbol of the Royal Army and the other with the soldier's information. Link can't read it from where he stands.

"Closer," Tandy snaps, tapping her desk with her fingernails. Link obeys, sheepishly hoping they won't put two and two together. "Now, you're the only one who I haven't assigned to their post."

Noticing Sep gone, Link is distracted. "Post, ma'am?"

"Yes, post. Many of your instructors are..." she searches for a word, "_incapacitated_ at the moment, so there's a need for replacements."

"Can't they assign men from the Army, ma'am? Wouldn't they be better choices than...me?" Link realizes how it must sound and adds, blushing, "N-Not that I don't want to do it, ma'am! It's just...just..."

"Yes?"

"Well," he stutters, "I'm me. Untrained."

Tandy laughs, waving a hand to dismiss the soldier. He leaves and she holds out a paper-wrapped parcel to Link. "You won't have to worry about fighting. That's...been taken care of."

Link takes the package, which is light and soft, like cloth. "What—what happened yesterday, ma'am?"

"Well," she starts, frowning, "Castle Town was indeed attacked, but the Army saw to that. We suffered casualties, of course." She shrugs. "Such is the way with all wars and battles."

Link nods, biting his lip. He glances at the package in his hands. "What _is_ this?"

"A soldier's uniform. No medallions yet, though."

"Oh—wait, what am I doing?"

"Get your weapons," Tandy says, gesturing in the general direction of his house, "and head to Hylia's Temple. You're to guard the new Priest and Priestess."

* * *

Link is soon dressed in the uniform Tandy gave him; he changes at his home, glad to find his mother out, probably with a patient. He studies his father's sword, the one hanging above the hearth, before taking it and testing it. The shield is sitting in the closet, tucked away from sight. He only hesitates a moment before switching out the cap given to him for his father's military one.

Link's heard that it takes a minimum of three years of training to simply not die in a sword fight. Considering he first held a sword two days two days ago, he assumes he'll be the first to end up like his father, a knife in his back.

On his way to the Temple, Link ducks through alleyways, hiding while someone passes by. The sword is heavy on his shoulder, the shield pulling on its strap attached to the scabbard. The thick belt he wears has two pouches and a loop of leather that he can't guess as to what it is for. Attaching a quiver? That would have its own strap, wouldn't it? The loop seems much too small for that.

The Temple's courtyard is empty, yet Link can hear the delicate plucking of a harp. He glances around, can't find anyone, so he sighs and starts toward the front of the building.

"Hello?" he calls, poking his head through the archway. His left hand rests uneasily on the hilt of his sword, and he can feel his palms sweating beneath the cloth and leather layers of his fingerless gloves.

The tip of a knife presses into his back. "Who are you?"

Link squeaks, stuttering incoherently. It is the voice of the Sheikah—the Priestess. He can hear another voice coming from inside, but he is frozen at the doorway, holding his breath.

"Yes?" the priest says, appearing in the archway. His eyes widen as he takes in the scene. "Oh. Terribly sorry." He holds out a hand, past Link's shoulder. "Give me the knife."

"He's armed," says the Priestess.

"The knife. Now."

Link can hear the sigh, and the pressure disappears. He nearly collapses and has to lean against the wall.

The priest clucks his tongue. "We allow you to do that to your clothing, but stealing a kitchen knife is unacceptable. Please, apologize to our guest."

"What if he harmed you?" the Priestess says, stepping forward so she stands at the corner of Link's eye.

He can't see what the priest was referring to, what they allowed her to do to her clothing. He doesn't turn his head to look, just keeps his forehead pressed to the wall, taking slow, shaking breaths. A drop of blood slides down his back.

"He wouldn't have."

"How can you be so certain?"

The priest smiles. "He's your guard."

Link can practically feel the Priestess's disapproval. "He should probably learn to hear the footsteps of those sneaking up on him, then."

Link blushes fiercely, finally standing up straight, clearing his throat uncomfortably. He realizes after a moment of silence that they expect him to say something and laughs nervously. "I..." He laughs again, reddening further, "I'd hate to see what she would do to a real intruder."

"Yes," the priest laughs. "I guess so. Are you alright? That must have been quite a scare. What's your name?"

"My n-name? Link, sir." He braves a nod at the Priestess, who simply stares, impassive, back.

The Priestess has changed much since Link last saw her. Her white-blonde hair is free, barely passing her shoulders, from the short braid it was kept in. Her blue and black outfit is replaced by a white, knee-length dress, in sharp contrast to her bronze skin, its full sleeves tied back by the cloth gauntlets that she wore before. Her feet are still wrapped in cloth, as well. Her eyes are the same blood-red, though in this light Link can spot a purplish tinge around her pupils.

"Well," the priest says, laughing again, "you don't have to be terribly confident. Your job's nice and easy. All you need to do is stand outside Sheik's room every night and don't allow anyone to enter."

"Sh-Sheik, sir?"

"Yes, Sheik." The priest points to the Priestess. "You didn't think she didn't have a name, did you?"

And Link's too embarrassed to say that he quite honestly never thought about it.

* * *

**Tempest Bound: My notoriously erratic updates schedule shining through, here.**

**Also! Renaming this story help, please? 2-3 words at most, in the style of the games titles, if you please. Preferably something that won't have the same acronym as any other game. I'd like to make a cover XD**


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The first night isn't bad. Link stands by the door leading to Sheik's room. There are no windows in the room, at least, so he doesn't need to worry. By midnight, he'd been awake for a day and a half and can feel the effects quite heavily. He catches himself nodding off twice before deciding to start sleeping during the day.

The next morning, Link's eyelids are drooping when Sheik opens the door. They snap open instantly, an blush spreading across his cheeks, embarrassed to be caught drifting off

He starts to follow Sheik as she disappears down the hallway, but she tells to him to stay put without ever looking back. She's again clothed in the white dress, or perhaps an exact replica of it, carrying a lyre, the instrument he must have heard yesterday in the courtyard, right before the knife appeared at his back.

The priest is the one to tell him can go home, and all Link can do is nod groggily and stumble home, barely managing to duck out of the ways of passerby.

He's asleep by the time his head hits the pillow, shrugging off his shield and scabbard, still dressed in his uniform.

* * *

"Link, honey? Are you asleep?"

Link groans softly and rolls over, pulling at the suddenly taught blanket. "Yes, Mom."

"Where were you last night?" his mother asks, ignoring his answer. "I was so worried!"

He pushes himself to his elbows slowly, squinting at his mother. "I'm sorry," he slurs, still half asleep. "I had work."

"Work?" She sees the uniform, frowns in concern. "I thought you were still training."

Link flops back on his back. "It's just guard duty. At night."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she says, getting up gingerly. "I should let you rest. You're going back tonight?"

Link nods without lifting his head. His mother places a kiss on his hair and leaves the room. He sighs, rolls over and snuggles into his blanket and pillow.

* * *

Link wakes up past noon, blurry-eyed, to change into his regular clothing and eat lunch, a bowl of stew left on the table by his mother, long since gone cold.

He thinks about making a dummy to practice on and manages to make the frame by supper. His mother is back by then, talking about her latest batch of patients, and stews up carrots and potatoes for them.

Link wraps his frozen fingers around the bowl appreciatively, thanking his mother and the Goddesses for the meal, glad to be out of the autumn chill. His back aches where Sheik's knife cut him.

"Did you wash your uniform?" his mother says.

Link's mouth is busy chewing on a bite of stew, so all he can manage is a shake of his head, because he knows it's rude to talk with his mouth full.

"You didn't?" Mella exclaims. She puts down her bowl, gets up and walks to Link's room, where the uniform is folded neatly on his made bed. She hooks a finger under the tunic and lifts it to examine it. "Honestly, Link—" She frowns. "This is new, right, honey? The uniform?"

Link swallows, nods. "Yeah," he says, already going for another spoonful. "Why?"

"Why is it cut on the back?"

Link's spoon stops on the way to his mouth. He leans back, blushing, clearing his throat. "Well, I, uh..." He smiles sheepishly. "The Priestess came up behind me with a knife?"

Mella's head whips around. "She did _what?"_

"It was my fault, Mom!" Link says, pouting slightly. "I should've been more watchful. She can't help her training."

"Her training? Who in Hyrule _trained_ her to put a knife to a man's back?" Mella's voice cracks and tears gather at the corners of her eyes.

"She's a Sheikah, Mom. Please don't cry!"

"If you'd been—" She stops, voice catching, wiping furiously at her face. "If you'd been..."

Link abandons his stew and joins her in his room. "I'm fine, Mom." He can tell it's something about his father, because his mother doesn't cry for anything else. He hugs her. "Please don't cry!"

Mella grips his arm tightly but no further tears spill onto her cheeks. She sniffs, lets go of Link, and clutches the tunic to her chest. "Okay. I'm okay."

Link nods and let's go of her reluctantly. "Okay."

Mella nods again, breathing in deeply. "Use...use your father's uniform. I'll fix this one by tomorrow."

Link doesn't have to ask where the uniform is hidden, and doesn't have the opportunity to. His mother excuses herself, taking his tunic and white shirt with her, and retires to her room, shutting the door all too quietly.

Link sighs, getting to his feet. He finds his father's tunic and shirt tucked with the rest of the uniform in the closet. He pulls on his tan pants, his father's shirt, his shirt of mail, the tunic, the leather-and-cloth gauntlets, the belt and scabbard. The cap is on next, and then the steel-toe boots. He straps on the shield to his right arm and slips out into the street, trying desperately not to hear the sobs of his mother a room over.

* * *

Link pauses at the threshold of the courtyard, straining to listen for the plucking of a lyre. When he doesn't hear anything, he steps up to the archway and knocks.

After three more knocks on the doorway, he lets himself in, spotting the light spilling from the corridor. He searches for the priest for a few minutes before finding his way to his post.

Another night of waiting ahead of him.

By midnight, Link's glad he slept this morning, knowing full well he's usually asleep by ten.

Footsteps echo down the hallway and he straightens up, awkwardly resting his hand on the hilt of his sword. He relaxes a bit when he sees it's the priestess who chose Sheik. "Hello, ma'am—"

She breezes past, without sparing a glance or word his way, continuing down the hallway. Link gets the impression of ice and feels a chill despite the torch ensconced a foot away.

When the priestess returns a few minutes later, he tries again. "Hi, ma'am—"

This time the priestess stops, looking at him as if never seeing him before. "And you are?"

Link feels his face flare at her cold stare, but he forces a kind smile. "My name's Li—"

"What's an invalid such as yourself doing here?"

"M-Ma'am?" he stammers, smile freezing.

She reaches out so suddenly that he flinches; she flicks his ear harshly, making him bite his lip against a yelp. "How in Hyrule did you manage to hole yourself up in this sacred place?"

"I-I'm a guard, ma'am."

"A _guard?"_ She sounds aghast. "Oh, Dear Hylia. How did you even get in the Army?" When all Link can do is stare blankly at her, jaw slightly ajar, she laughs cruelly, grabbing his ear. "Can you hear that, runt?"

Link has to bend as she pulls at his ear, gasping.

She cups a hand around her own perfectly pointed ear, making a surprised face. _"That_ is the sound of Hylia's disapproval, runt."

"Tine? Is that you?"

The priestess doesn't let go of Link's ear as the priest appears at the other end of hallway. His eyes widen and he rushes to Link's side, prying Tine's fingers from his ear.

Link's hand immediately goes to his throbbing ear, almost afraid it started tearing off his head. His face is blood red and he's on the verge of tears.

"What did you think you were doing to Link, Tine?" the priest demands, still holding onto her.

"Oh, is that his name, Heath?" Tine laughs, jerking her arm from the priest's grip. "What's a rat like him doing here, guarding of all things?"

"Rat?" Heath glances at Link, who gingerly lets go of his ear and smiles weakly back. "You can't just call people rats, Tine."

"I can very well call a _runt_ whatever I so wish." With a huff, Tine storms off, her thick white robes trailing behind her.

Heath sighs before turning to Link. "Terribly sorry. You haven't been receiving the best of greetings."

Link shakes his head, bowing slightly. "N-No worries, sir." He pauses. "I'm...used to it."

"No one should be used to this sort of thing."

By the time Link looks up, Heath disappears down the hallway.

* * *

It must be four in the morning when Link starts hearing whispers. He glances around, puzzled at how they don't bounce off the walls like they would if they belonged to someone walking down the hallway, and when he looks to his left, he realizes it comes from inside Sheik's room.

He knocks on the door tentatively. The whispers stop. "Miss Sheik?" he calls softly, afraid she might still be asleep. "Are you awake? Is everything alright?"

There's the sound of cloth, like she might be getting up from her bed. Two pairs of footsteps come from inside, but by the time Sheik cracks open the door and light spills into the dark room, there's no one else. Her eyes are still scarlet, thought now without the purple tinge. "What do you want?"

"Oh." Link tries a smile, blushing deep red. "I'm sorry. I thought I heard someone else in your room." He reaches for the doorknob to close the door, but there's a sharp pain in his side. Before he can look down, his knees give out and the world fades to black.

* * *

Link comes to on the floor of Sheik's room, head feeling as if it were stuffed full of cotton. "Wha...?" He feels for the sight of the pain he experienced before passing out and only finds a needle thin hole in the cloth.

"You're awake."

Link jerks his head up. Sheik sits on her bed, back straight. In her hands is a thin piece of metal, thin and pointed like a sewing needle, but hollow. "Did you...?"

"I was not the one who administered the sedative, if that is what you're wondering."

"But you know it was a sedative." He tries to sit up, only half succeeds.

Sheik makes no move to help him. "Yes."

"Do you know who did it?"

"Yes."

Link staggers to his feet, shaking his limbs of the drug. How in Din's name did she manage to drag him in here? Did his attacker help her? "Who was it?"

"You ask too many questions."

"Who was it?"

Sheik sighs. "Impa." When Link continues to stare blankly, she adds, "My mentor."

Link stands there awkwardly, caught between simply leaving and never coming back, and finding out what happened. Curiosity wins out. "Why did she do that? Why was she even _here?"_

"She thought you were attacking me," Sheik replies. "As to why she was here, that is none of your concern."

Link realizes something and tilts his head, staring at Sheik. "Do you dye your hair?"

"No."

"Why do you have darker roots?"

Sheik frowns, is about to answer, when a scream echoes from outside. She jumps to her feet and is out of the door instantly, quick enough to be sprinting down the hallway by the time the second scream rips the air. Link freezes as she runs past, but is soon on her heels.

The scream is of a woman, and as they try to pinpoint the noise, they begin searching what must be the kitchen. Link trips over something and slams headfirst into a cupboard door. He groans and leans back, rubbing his nose. "Ow."

Sheik appears above him, pressing her ear to the door. After a moment, she opens it, and the screams' volume increases ten-fold. "Down here."

"W-we're going down there?" Link stammers, but Sheik ducks in without pausing. "W-wait!"

Her footsteps echo down the steps, cloth and skin on cool stone. Link sighs, glances nervously around, wondering where Heath or Tine in all of this, before grabbing an ensconced torch. "At least bring a light!"

But he follows after her nevertheless.

* * *

**Tempest Bound: So begins the first dungeon! :D**


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Link quickly realizes that carrying a torch is tiring. He passes it to his right hand, though it already bears his shield. When he catches up to Sheik, she stares at him, unblinking, before slapping the torch from his grip. It clatters to the ground and snuffs out instantly.

"What?" he stammers, blinking furiously as if it helps to rid his eyes of the enshrouding darkness. "Why?"

Sheik shushes him, but he keeps asking her until finally she sighs, whirls around and presses a knife to his neck. "Be quiet or I'll slit your throat."

So all he can manage is a quiet 'okay'. Only then does he realize the screams have gone silent.

They venture on, down a spiralling staircase, long enough that Link almost tries talking again, to ask why she put out the torch, when he sees, quite literally, the light at the end of the tunnel. The source is beyond an archway and the change is so sudden and startling that Link stops blindly, squinting.

Sheik grabs his arm and pulls him back into the stairwell, jerking hard enough to send him stumbling onto the bottom step with a grunt and a clink of mail.

"What are you doing?" he whispers, rubbing his eyes.

Without answering, Sheik draws her knife and peers into the room.

"Is that a kitchen knife?"

She launches the blade through the door, and Link can hear a splatter, presumably blood.. "A throwing knife." She jostles her leg, upsetting her sword in its scabbard. Its twin is slung around her hips too, hanging on the opposite side. "I brought my own." She steals a glance through the doorway.

"You still have your weapons? Didn't they—"

Sheik steps into the room and Link's afraid she won't answer. "I took them back."

He follows and spots a pool of green slime on the ground, Sheik's knife stuck in a red ball shape in the puddle. Sheik draws a sword and approaches cautiously before prodding it to make sure it is indeed dead.

Only then does she jerk the knife free, dripping red on the green, wipes it on a white sleeve, dying it crimson, and tucks it away.

"What is that thing?"

Sheik doesn't look up at Link's voice, continuing to scan the room. "A chuchu."

Link draws his own sword, nearly dropping it. "A-Are there any more?"

"Not here."

The room is small but absolutely filled with light, produced by a glass orb at the center. There is only one other doorway besides the one they entered through. The door is stone but they push it open easily. Beyond it is another room, similarly filled with light; this time, however, they are greeted by two living blobs of slime and a hairful of bats.

Sheik launches into action, stabbing for the red center of the first chuchu, and whirls around, blades leading and sinking into the other. Link swipes at the bats clumsily, killing them only accidently, as they dive for his face.

The last bat is skewed from the air by a knife, pinned through the abdomen to a crack in the wall. It twitches for a moment before going still.

"They want your earrings," Sheik says, reaching for her knife but she is too short to reach. "Take them off."

Link touches the piercings protectively. "I can't. They're my father's."

Sheik continues to stretch for her knife, warning, "You'll never be rid of them."

"Why do they want them?"

"They eat ores and gems."

Link starts towards Sheik. "Here, let me—"

With a grunt, Sheik scales the wall, bracing her feet against the stone, hanging from a handhold, and plucks the knife from the bat, which tumbles to the ground. From its gaping wound falls a green gem the size of a fingernail, clinking against the gray stone of the floor.

"I...see what you mean," Link says lamely, bending as if to pick it up. "It's not acidic, is it?"

"Not to my knowledge."

Link picks it up gingerly, ready to drop it if it were to burn him, but it doesn't and he examines it, wiping it with the back of his fingerless glove.

Beneath the gore is a shining, green Rupee.

"Uh," Link says, showing it to Sheik, who has moved on to one of the doors, the locked one, "can this be used? For currency?"

She doesn't look back, but continues jerking at the lock. "Yes." She pulls out the needle from before and kneels to pick at the lock. After a moment, she gives up and tucks the needle away.

"I guess we need to go to the other door?"

Sheik doesn't answer but instead heads toward the third door, right of the one they entered the room through, and pushes.

The new room reveals a giant chuchu, this one blue, nearly five times the size of the others they've seen. Link yelps, but Sheik draws her swords and lunges for the throbbing red center, swollen in the blue slime. Her short sword and her arm disappear into the chuchu.

While Sheik is busy freeing herself, trying not to be engulfed by the swarming goo, Link shakes himself from his frozen fear.

"Okay," he mutters in a panic, "okay, okay, okay, she needs my help—oh, dear Farore—"

Sheik gasps. Her shoulder disappears after her arm and she has to struggle backwards, pushing at the chuchu with her other hand, straining her neck to keep her head away.

Before Link can lose what little nerve he has, he launches himself at the monster with a yell that sounds more like a squeak to his ears. His sword is longer and his reach wider, so the blade sinks into the red center and blood spurts from the wound. Link jerks his arm free and stabs again, and again, five times, grunting at the impact.

The chuchu collapses into a puddle of slime. Sheik falls to her knees, holding her hand to her chest.

"Are you okay?" Link asks, rushing over, panting.

Sheik looks at what's left of the chuchu, a quivering heart or brain or something, and holds her unharmed hand out before her. She stares at it with curiosity before nodding and getting to her feet, collecting her swords from the ground.

Link sighs in relief. "Good."

Sheik turns around and starts toward the door. She stops, as if realising Link's not following, and says over her shoulder, "Gather your drops and let's head back."

"Drops?" Link says, looking around. "But what about the lo—oh." He spots a key among the slime heap and, after a moment's hesitation, digs it out with the tip of his sword. No use getting his gloves and arm soaked.

He joins Sheik by the door and they return to the second room. The key slides into the lock easily and turns without a fight, and the mechanism falls to the ground with a clatter.

"Take the key," Sheik says, swiping the chains away with a foot.

Link bends down and tugs at the key, but it doesn't come free. He jostles it, wiggles it, but it remains stuck. "It's stuck.

Sheik picks up the lock, tugs at the key, and when it stays trapped, turns the whole thing around to examine it. She drops it to the ground after a minute. "It won't come out. There's an inner lock."

Link peers down at the mass of metal. "Why would someone do that?"

"To keep people from using the same key twice."

Link sighs but helps Sheik push the door open. They step into the next room together, one lit by lamps on the far wall.

One that contains a single, unguarded chest.

"Should we open it?" Link asks, already starting towards it, egged on by his curiosity.

"It could be trapped."

But Link makes it without experiencing death and bends down. He runs his fingers under the lid and heaves at the heavy top, surprised to find no lock to impede his progress.

Sheik appears behind him and reaches for the small necklace inside, a sun-shaped pendant hanging from a simple, golden chain. She jerks her hand back as if it burned her.

"Are you okay?" Link asks, looking at her.

"I'm fine."

Link tries as well, slowly, waiting for a jolt or searing pain, but his fingertips find the cold metal of the necklace. He picks it up by the pendant, the chain hanging from his hand.

The sun is an odd black-ish red, and absolutely freezing. Link glances at Sheik. "Why didn't it burn me?"

Sheik rubs absently at her hand but doesn't seem otherwise in pain. She doesn't answer.

"I hope whoever was screaming is okay," Link says, though he knows the reality. He hangs the chain around his neck. It's probably safer there than in his pocket, where it might fall out.

They head to the next door, but beyond this one is a room so engulfed in darkness that they can't see a foot in front of them. They attempt feeling their way through, but end up turned around in the black. The light spilling in from the open door doesn't seem to help, as if there is a barrier that blocks the light from entering.

Link's foot finds a heavy object that doesn't seem to want to move and after a moment, Sheik says, "Let's go back. There's no use."

Link sighs but obeys; when they enter the third room, the one with the light filled ball at its center, he yelps. The pendant has started floating, the chain limp. It begins to glow and particles flit around the now golden metal.

"W-What's happening?" He's too afraid to touch the still glowing pendant, scared it might burn him now.

Sheik watches him. "Turn around."

"What?"

"Turn around!"

Link's eyes widen and he complies.

"Now go back to the room we just left."

Feeling as if a knife is again pressed to his back, Link leads the way to the darkness permeated room. The necklace cuts through the black, lighting the way. "Oh. _Oh."_

"A Light Pendant."

Link turns to look at Sheik. "A what?"

"A Light Pendant," she repeats, gesturing with her sword. "The name of the artifact. Absorbs light and can put it back out, can power certain things."

He nods slowly, glances around, and finds what his foot bumped into in the darkness; an orb like the ones that produced light in the other rooms, but dead. He walks over, intrigued, and along the support, he finds a familiar-shape carved into the stone. A sun.

"Aha!" he exclaims triumphantly. He removes the necklace slowly, afraid it might burn him, and inserts the pendant into the hole. The room fills with light instantly, and the sound of stone grinding against stone echoes. The door across from them, one larger than the others, slides open.

And from inside comes another ear-splitting scream.

Sheik launches into action while Link fumbles with the Light Pendant, returning it to its place around his neck, before following her. The room beyond is grand and large, ornately decorated. An altar is the main focus, with a box of some sort atop it. Another scream rips the air, and Link stops mid-step.

Is...Is the sound coming from inside the box?

Sheik doesn't seem confused in the slightest; she pulls out a knife and jams it under the box's lid, earning a tiny shriek that sounds breathy in comparison to the piercing screams. There's whimpers and squeaks.

Link joins her, frowning and anxious, and Sheik finally pries open the box.

"See, I told you, Sol!" says an airy voice, high-pitched like a child's.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, Aster..." answers a slightly deeper voice.

Sheik and Link jump backwards as two balls of light flit from the box. Two fairies, one blue and one green.

"Sorry to scare you," the female fairy says, the one named Aster, the green one. "We were trapped and..."

"Sis here thought it was great idea to imitate a Hylian scream," the one named Sol says, giving his sister a shove. "I _told _you it wasn't a good idea."

"Hey, I got us out of there, didn't I?"

"Why were you in there?" Sheik says, straight to the point, interrupting the squabbling. "Who put you in there?"

Aster darts to Sheik, flitting around as if to examine her. "You...kinda smell like them..."

Sheik recoils from the fairy, who shouts, "Hey! What gives?"

Link steps between them, offering a weak and hopefully diplomatic smile. "It's okay. Do you know who did this to you?"

The fairy huffs and returns to her brother's side. "No."

"What they looked like?"

Sol answers, "It was guy."

Sheik visibly relaxes. She looks around the dimly lit room. "We should go."

"Yeah," Link concedes. To the fairies, he says, "Do you think you'll make it out of here yourself?"

"Well, we could just pair up, eh?" Aster says, appearing by his shoulder. "I'm hanging with you, 'cause the other's kinda iffy. Sol, you have her."

Sheik growls. Sol approaches her haltingly, giving his sister a glance that Link thinks looks begging, before drooping and stopping above Sheik's shoulder.

As they walk through the rooms to get back to the staircase, Aster gives a whistling sound, darting from monster body to monster body. "You guys sure did a number on this place."

No one answers. They climb the stairs in a few minutes, and re-enter the Temple's kitchen. The halls are silent and dark.

They pass a sconce. Link stops. "Why are the torches out?"

Sheik studies him a moment before starting towards the front entrance. "It should be day by now." She finds the outside as bright as she expected. Like the dark engulfed room before, a barrier prevents any light from entering.

Curious, the group steps outside into the sunlight. "Weird," says Sol, turning to go back inside. "Do you think—" He slams into the barrier and yelps. "Ow!"

Sheik picks up a rock and tosses it at the archway; it promptly bounces off and clatters to the ground.

Inside, it is pitch-black.

* * *

**Tempest Bound: I won't be describing each dungeon in such fine detail in the future, but this is the first and also the shortest because of this. Sorry if this was boring ^^'**


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The group stands around, and Link is the first to speak. "Nice autumn weather, right?" Sheik glares at him until he clears his throat. "Uh, should we be worried that we can't get back in?"

Sheik looks up, backs up a few steps, before launching herself towards and up the wall, finding purchase with quick fingers and sure feet. She scales the wall in seconds, reaching the top floor and the window there. She passes to the next, and then the next.

The two fairies have disappeared, so Link is alone to gape at Sheik as she lands silently in front of him. She barely seems out of breath. He thinks she would be a better soldier than him. "The windows are sealed off, as well."

Link's still in shock.

A voice behind him makes him jump. "What are you trying to do? Catch fairies?"

When he whirls around, it's Aster and Sol, in all of their green and blue glory.

"Where did you go?" he stammers, not mentioning how he thought they abandoned Sheik and him. "You're staying with us?"

"You make it sound like a bad thing," Aster grumbles.

"We checked the back door and windows," Sol says. "Sorry it took so long."

"It wasn't long at all," Link says. "But don't you...don't you want to leave?"

"Well..." Sol starts.

"We can't!" says Aster, cutting him off.

Sol turns to his sister. "We can't?"

Aster draws close to him, as if she's glaring. "Yeah, we. Can't."

Sol nods. "Yes, we can't leave you. We, uh, are—we're—"

"We're your guides!" Aster exclaims. "Sent by the Goddesses. To help you."

"Help us?" Link says. "With what?"

"To...to set things straight, of course! The Temple's not the only place like this, you know."

"They're lying," Sheik says, startling Link. She'd approached without him hearing, stopped right next to him without him noticing.

"They are?"

"What are you saying?!" Aster snaps, getting in Sheik's face, who doesn't flinch. "You calling us liars? Farore wouldn't, uh, be too happy with that."

Link taps Sheik's shoulder, nodding to a spot just out of the fairies' earshot. She follows and he says, "We should let them stay. What if they're telling the truth?"

"What if they are not?" Sheik counters.

"But what if they _are?"_

Link swears it's the longest staring contest he's ever held—which he admits isn't very hard to beat. Sheik sighs. "They are allowed to remain with us."

"'Us'? You're staying?" He grins. "Thank you!"

"Something evil is brewing in the land of Hyrule," Sheik says carefully. "It is my duty, as a Sheikah, to seek it out and protect others from it."

Link's smile disappears. "Oh. Of course."

Sheik nods and walks back to the fairies. Link joins her after a moment, and Aster says to him, stopping in front of his face, "You don't mind me riding on your shoulder, right?" She doesn't wait for an answer, but simply perches atop his shoulder.

Sol looks towards Sheik, who, before he can say something, says, "Don't try it, fairy."

Sol droops. Link's face softens. "You can join Aster, if you want."

Link can't see either fairies faces amongst their glow, but even he can tell Sol grins at him before doing just that—and then Link has two fairies riding on his shoulder.

"Uh, what—what time is it?" Link says, squinting at the sun.

"About eight, I'd say," Aster says. "Why?"

Link laughs nervously, glancing at Sheik. "I guess it isn't a bad time to introduce you to my mother, right?"

"Why do you say so?"

"She'll worry otherwise." Link removes his hat even as Sheik passes him a perplexed glance.

"Why?"

"For, uh, them." He points to the fairies. "The less people who know about them, the better, right?"

* * *

His mother is not there when they arrive. When they step in, Link removes his hat, and out explode two very annoyed fairies.

"Where's your ma?" Aster says, darting around.

"She's probably out with a patient," Link says. "Maybe she didn't notice I wasn't here. So...what now?"

"We must get back in the Temple," Sheik says.

"Why?"

Before answering, she looks around the room, making Link notice the fairies are no longer in the room. "There's an evil presence in there that wasn't before." She taps at the hilt of one of her swords. "Also, I can still sense three other Hylians in there."

"There's people trapped?!" Link exclaims. "We have to help them! But...how are we supposed to get past the barrier?"

"There...is one way. But we must leave soon."

Just then, a sheet suspended by two orbs of light comes floating into the room. "Hey, look!" shouts a familiar voice. "We're a Poe. Boo!"

Link pulls at his bed's sheet as they float past. "Guys, come on, we have to leave—"

"L-Link? Who are these people?"

They must not have heard the door, because behind them is Mella. Sheik whirls around, drawing her sword. Mella begins to scream.

Link rushes over, clamping a hand over his mother's mouth, shushing her. "Mom, it's okay!"

He looks at Sheik urgently. "Put your swords away!"

Sheik doesn't move.

"Now!"

After a moment's hesitation, she complies. Link nods and turns his attention back to Mella, who has gone silent and wide eyed. He slowly removes his hand, afraid she might start to scream again, but she remains frozen.

"Mom," Link starts quietly, "this is—"

"Y...You're a Sheikah!" Mella chokes.

"Yes," Sheik says, awkwardly extending a hand. "A pleasure to mee—"

"Get out of my house."

Sheik's hand freezes.

"Get out of my house!" Mella whispers, hugging herself. "Please. Haven't you done enough? Why aren't you satisfied with destroying a boy's life?"

"Mom, please. This is Sheik—"

"Out..." She falls to her knees, shoulders shaking. "Please..."

Link sighs and pushes Sheik towards the door. "I guess—I guess you have to. Aster, Sol, go with Sheik."

"What about you?" Aster says.

"Just give me a few minutes. I'll be right with you."

The door shuts and all is quiet, save for the sound of his mother's crying. Link kneels beside her and hugs her tight, murmuring, "What's wrong, Mom? What's wrong?"

She says something, so quiet he doesn't understand.

"What?"

"Why are you with a Sheikah?" she repeats.

"Mom, is this about Sepia?"

"A Sheikah...ruined their life." She rubs vigorously at her eyes.

Link tries looking in her eyes, but she ducks her head, avoiding his gaze. "Mom, it's just a rumor—"

"Why are you with her?"

Link grimaces. "Something's wrong at the Temple, and I...I need her, Mom. I have to go with her."

"Is she..." Mella chokes, "is she the one who put a knife to your back?"

Link doesn't answer, but apparently, that is all Mella needs to start crying again. "Mom, please—"

"Don't go with her. What if she—if she—"

"She _won't_, Mom—"

"Please," she cries, "Oh, please please please, dear Hylia, _please."_

"If I don't go, Mom—" Link stops, swallows.

"If I don't go, people will die."

Mella stares with tear-filled eyes. Her breath hitches.

"Do you understand? Innocents will die, Mom. I need to do this."

She nods slowly, dropping her gaze. Link gets to his feet, sighing sadly, when her voice makes his stop. "You're...too much like your father, Link." She gives a small, cracking laugh. "He...he protected everyone, no matter the cost to himself."

Link sniffs, nods his head.

Mella says, "But it would break my heart if you died like him, too."

"I-I have to go, Mom."

She nods. She gets to her feet and disappears into her room, reappearing with a cloth bag. She presses it into Link's hand, wiping tears with her fingers.

"What...what is this?"

"What your father called his 'adventure kit'," Mella says, laughing sadly at the memory. "Open it."

It is empty. "But there's nothing in it!"

"Stick your hand in. Go on," she urges when he hesitates.

Link complies, and withdraws his hand when it encloses around something.

He stares at the item. "But the bag's..."

"Enchanted. The contents disappear unless they're recalled," she says quietly.

"But an empty bottle...?"

"'You have no idea how handy this thing is', that's what Dellon used to say."

"What else is in here?"

Mella sighs brokenly, and gives him a weak smile. "You'll be going on an adventure. Your father would've been proud. But you should go, shouldn't you?"

Link looks up at her. "Mom..."

"They're..." She sniffs. "They're waiting for you."

"I'll be back, don't worry," Link insists, even as he opens the door.

And just as it closes, his mother says, "I-I'm proud of you, Link."

* * *

It is only by the time they are outside the town limits that Aster's questions receive answers. Link is trembling and terrified that if he were to open his mouth, all that would come out would be sobbing and he would just be a terrible mess on the ground.

He left his mother. _He left his mother after that_. Even after she said...said...

"I-I'm proud of you, Link."

Not even the thought that he had to go can calm his shaking and the feeling of horrible dread.

"Hey, are you listening?" Aster says, nudging his face. "I said, what's the bag?"

Link swallows, beats back the feeling of tears. "It's a—" He clears his throat, because Aster probably can't hear him, even from her perch atop his shoulder. "It's an 'adventure kit'. It's—it _was _my father's."

"What's in it?"

Link forces a laugh. "I haven't looked, yet. I know there's an empty bottle, though."

"Ooh, what else? Open it, open it!"

Link pushes aside his thoughts for the moment, and laughs. "I'll do that when we've stopped for the night. Sheik, where _are_ we stopping?"

Sheik doesn't look at him, continues on. Link has learned to wait longer than most take, perhaps because she spends it piecing sentences together, each word for a reason, each breath with a point. "Why did your mother react the way she did?"

"Yeah, what _was_ that about?" Aster says.

Link shoos the fairies out of ear shot before turning to Sheik. "What?"

She fixes him with a once-again purple-tinted gaze. "She screamed for me to leave. Why is that?"

Link gives a crooked smile. "Just...don't take it personally, okay?"

Sheik nods.

"This all happened before I was born, and it's all rumor, so I'm sorry if I ever forget something and-" He catches her stare, clears his throat. "It's Sepia. Well, his parents, really. They were happy, since Sepia was just born..."

* * *

_"Push! Yew, one more!" the midwife says. "You're doing fine."_

_ Yew is lying down, face contorted with pain, sweat-covered. The sound of a squalling baby fills the room and everyone heaves a sigh of relief._

_ "It's a boy!" The midwife shows the newborn to his mother, smiling wide. "Congratulations."_

_ Yew laughs tiredly. "Thank you. Oh, Hylia, thank you. He's beautifu—" Her eyes widen. "C-Could I hold him?"_

_ The midwife frowns but hands the now blanket-swaddled baby to his black-haired mother._

_ Yew stares at her baby's face, a round, soft, gurgling face with mismatching eyes and a crooked ear, and begins to cry. "No! No, no!"_

_ "What's wrong, Yew? Isn't he beautiful?"_

_ "Yew, honey, is everything alright?" comes a voice from just outside, the voice of Alo, who had been pacing the hallway with such a ferocious intensity that it scared everyone else away. "Can I come in?"_

_ "No, Alo, wait, please—"_

_ But too late. Alo steps through the door, sees his wife and child, and beams._

_ "See, Yew?" says the midwife, smiling, too. "Nothing to worry about."_

_ Alo stops by his wife's bedside, and the smile freezes on his face. Because the baby has a shock of black hair. With golden streaks. "What—?" He turns pleading, desperate eyes on Yew's face. "Please, no, it's not true. You told me—Dellon** told** me—"_

_ "I didn't lie!" cries Yew. "Please, believe me!"_

_ "Explain his eyes, his ear, his hair—" Alo swallows. "Oh, dear Hylia, his **hair**. None of our ancestors had his Goddess forsaken **hair!**"_

_ "Alo—"_

_ "Who was he? I swear to Din, if I find him, I'll—"_

_ "It was you, Alo. You're the fath—"_

_ "Was it a Sheikah?" he demands, eyes lost and shining. "It was, wasn't it?"_

_ Yew's face is wet with tears and sweat, oblivious to the screams of her child. "No, Alo, please—"_

_"They have red eyes. He has a red eye," Alo says, voice cracking as he counts the points off on his fingers. "The blond hair. Their men have round ears, for Nayru's sake!"_

_ "Alo. Alo, where are you going? Alo!"_

* * *

"What happened?"

"He...killed himself. By throwing himself in the river," Link says. "Yew did the same after she found out."

Sheik closes her eyes, breathes deeply. She opens her eyes and says, "I'm sorry, why didn't your mother take him in? She and Yew seem close."

"She would've," Link agrees, "but after what happened, they took Sep to an orphanage in Castle Town. He's only come back to town two years ago."

"What did he do to support himself?"

Link shrugs, sighs. "How should I know? You'll have to ask him yourself."

Aster darts in front of them, effectively ending the discussion. "Hey, Link, we found a camp site."

"I'll have to approve this 'site'," Sheik says, heading towards Sol.

"I guess I should start setting up," Link says.

"Ooh, don't forget to show me what's inside the bag!"

"Don't worry. I won't."

"By the way," Aster says, following Link when Sheik approves the clearing for camp and waves them over, "what were you guys talking about?"

Link shrugs and suddenly finds extreme interest in his adventure kit bag. "Nothing to worry about."

"Right." Aster darts forward and plucks his cap from his head, flying for her brother. "Try to catch me!"

"Hey, give that back!"

* * *

**Tempest Bound: Sorry it took so long. Here's a slightly sadder chapter :(**


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Link is utterly confused.

Sheik had only slept a day ago, like him, and yet kept watch the previous night, with no complaints, and without even attempting to wake him to take a shift.

And, how?

"Do you take something?" he asks the next day, as they continue onward.

"What?" Sheik says, turning to him, having been interrupted while watching the scouting fairies, who had promised to earn their keep.

"You know. How do you stay awake so long? Aren't you tired?"

"No." She returns her gaze to before her. "Training does not simply consist of weapon use."

"Oh," Link says. "How many weapons do you know how to use, by the way?"

"Use effectively?"

He shrugs. "Yes?"

"One-handed and two-handed swords, bows, crossbows, axes, needles, claws, spears, shields, various firing weapons, chains, throwing knives, daggers, poisons—"

Link laughs, somewhat forced. "Is there any weapon you barely know how to use?"

Sheik gives him an odd look. "If I plan on using a weapon, I will learn to use it well."

He nods. "Right."

Link can feel her eyes on his throat, where the Light Pendant still hangs from its golden chain, having gone cold since they left the Temple. He rubs it with a thumb and smiles at Sheik. "Do you want to try again?"

She shakes her head. "No."

"Why not?"

"It will burn me again."

Link jangles the Pendant. "How can you be so sure?"

"I'm quite certain, now."

He opens his mouth, about to press her further, but remembers how that went last time. He clears his throat. "W-Why are you so...accepting of me?"

Sheik frowns, eyes following the fairies. "What do you mean?"

"Most, uh, _notice_ my disability—"

"I've not seen such a thing. You fight well for an amateur."

Link's face turns deep red. "No, not disabled like _that—"_

Sheik glances at him, an eyebrow raised slightly. "What type of impairment do you speak of, then?"

"M-My _ears?"_ he says, voice dropping, face burning.

"What about them?" she asks.

"They're...crooked..."

"I've noticed," Sheik says. "What of it?"

"You're not going to make fun of me?" Link says, confused.

"Why would I do that?"

His eyebrows furrow, and he blinks at her. "Because I can't hear the messages of the Goddesses like other Hylians." He tugs at his cap, ducking his head. "I'm a runt. Didn't you hear Ms. Tine?"

Sheik doesn't bother asking who Tine is. "I find it wasteful to spend energy on hate, especially that which is unfounded." She shrugs. "Prejudice is useless and time-consuming."

Link nods. "Oh," he says, voice quiet.

Suddenly, a very agitated Aster is in his face. "Link, w-we found somebody!"

"Why are you shouting?" he asks, wincing.

"He's hurt!"

That makes Sheik start. She sprints to where Sol flits, fluttering at a stand of trees. When Link joins her, he finds a boy lying on the ground with a long gash high on his leg, bleeding profusely.

"Sir, are you okay?" Link stammers.

The boy doesn't reply, simply groans in pain.

"What—What do we do?"

Sheik doesn't look at him but continues to unwrap her bandage gauntlet. "Gather firewood."

"W-Why?" Link says, but already is looking for dead branches to add to the pile of kindling the fairies have found.

She pulls off the last of the cloth, and tucked against her skin are an assortment of needles, some like the one used on Link, and others like ones used for sewing. "Just do it."

The fairies have created a kindling nest, perfect for a spark. "But you need to—"

Sheik glances at the kindling, and her eyes flash. The hay and bark sputters to life in a spray of sparks. Link hurriedly builds the fire up.

Sheik picks up a needle and passes it through the fire, blowing on it until it's cool enough to pass thread she pulls from her sleeve through.

Link sputters. "What about a tourniqu—"

"The injury's too high up."

"Pressure—"

"He's bleeding too much."

Link's eyes flicker to the boy—blissfully unaware of the needle poised near his leg. "Sedative?"

Sheik shakes her head and bends over her work. "Wasteful. Hold his legs down."

"Wasteful?" he says, pinning the boy's legs. "He's in pain!"

"He is unconscious. He won't feel it." Sheik presses the tip to the boy's thigh, having ripped his pant leg open. Link has to wince, the cut being so close to...certain parts. "He probably won't survive, with all the blood he's losing, as well."

Link presses his forehead to his arm, and feels more than sees the needle sink into skin. The boy's legs buck beneath Link's grip and the wood fills with a scream. Then a horse's whinny.

Link jerks his head up, eyes wide, and searches the trees for the source, trying to block the desperate cries of the boy. A movement near the fire reveals a horse's head, a face with mournful black eyes. It disappears into the foliage.

"Aster!" Link says. "Sol!"

"On it!" Aster answers, and with her brother, follows the horse.

Link turns his eyes on the boy, who's attempted to curl up on his side and has been reduced to heaving sobs, but Sheik has angled her body so as to limit his movement. Her fingers are quick and the cut is half-sealed with neat, efficient stitches of black thread.

Link can't take his eyes off the scene, like an accident too gruesome to look away from. He tries steadying his voice so he can say something, but fails. "W-What do you think made th-the injury?"

Sheik's lips are pressed together, and her hair sticks to her forehead, long enough to slip down her shoulder and onto her work. She growls and wrenches it back with one hand.

Link positions his right arm on the boy's shaking shins, near his feet, and uses the other to pull off his cap, then his hair tie. He pushes his hair from his face, though it immediately falls off his shoulder, and holds the piece of leather out to Sheik. "Here."

Sheik looks at him before taking it, winding it around her own hair with one hand, and returns to stitching. With a final tug, she ties off the last stitch, and pulls away from the boy quickly, so as to avoid any thrashing arms. Link lets go too, covering his head with his arms.

The boy wraps his arms around himself and cries without curling up or rolling over. Sheik nods to herself before moving closer and pulls his arms away and stretches him out.

"What are you doing?" Link says, voice hoarse.

Sheik doesn't answer him. She leans over the boy's face. "What's your name? Can you hear me?"

The boy won't—or can't—answer.

Sheik looks up. "Find some water."

Link gets up and wanders the forest, searching for a stream or brook, never too far from camp. He wonders where the fairies and the horse are. When he finds a small, gurgling brook, he removes the empty bottle from the slot he had once thought to be for a quiver, and fills it before returning to Sheik.

She takes it from him, trickling some water into the now unconscious boy's open mouth. He chokes. She tries again and this time he swallows.

Sheik turns her attention to the oozing wound. She pours the rest of the water onto it, handing back the bottle to Link, and begins wiping gently at the area around the stitches with a cloth gauntlet. Blood comes off onto the white bandage.

Link clears his throat uneasily. "Do you...do you want me to get more water?"

Sheik shakes her head. "No."

"Why not?"

She leans back on her heels and stares at him. "The blade that caused this was poisoned."

Link's jaw hangs slightly. "Can't you do something? Don't you have antidotes?"

"If I don't know the poison used," Sheik says, "then administering an antidote will make the situation worse."

"So," Link says, biting his lip, "there's nothing we can do?"

Sheik shakes her head. Link's heart sinks. This boy had obviously gone through something horrible, and to die by a poisoned blade?

And to think he looks barely fifteen. "Do you have an idea who did this?"

"The cut is oddly shaped," she says. "Perhaps a scimitar. Only Gerudo and Sheikah use them."

"Sheikah?" Link glances to the swords strapped to her waist, two swords he had thought to be short-swords, but the curved blade tells the truth.

Sheik glowers. "We use smaller blades than what caused this. Either a Gerudo or a rogue."

Link blushes, stuttering, "I didn't mean—" When he looks down, the boy's chest is still. His skin is already paling, the tears stiffening on his cheeks.

Sheik begins rummaging through the boy's pockets, and pulls out a medallion, the kind reserved for military use, to identify bodies. Inscribed in the metal is the name Camil Breaker, his birth date making him several decades older than the boy.

"A horse tamer by the looks of it," Sheik says. "Perhaps a breeder."

"But it can't be him," Link counters, pointing at the body. He's afraid to touch it, scared it might be cold and stiff like he expects. It. It's funny how once someone dies, they're no longer a person. They're simply an empty shell of what they used to be.

An object. Inanimate. Genderless. Link makes a promise to himself never to refer to a body as an it unless he can't tell.

"His father," Sheik amends. "Probably a civilian soldier called for the war nineteen years ago."

"Where do you think they live?" Link asks, glancing around. Aster and Sol have been gone a while. "Nearby? The least we can do is, uh, tell them."

Sheik gestures to the trees behind her. "He came from that direction."

He cranes his neck to look. "How—"

"Something came through there recently, something big."

"The boy?"

"And his horse."

"The horse is his?"

Sheik holds up the medallion, the only find in the boy's now emptied pockets. "His father's."

There's crashing behind Link. He jerks around to find a very frightened horse standing in front of him, focused on a floating ball of light. Its eyes roll, whites flashing, and its deep chest bellows and its legs shake.

"Aster!" Link says, and the horse cringes, ears flickering. "You found it! I was getting worried."

"Of course we found it!" Aster exclaims. The horse turns away, skin twitching. "Oh, no you don't!"

Link throws a cupped hand in front of the fairy to stop her chasing after the horse, a female flaxen beauty with a short tail and an even shorter mane. "Don't scare her."

He slowly gets to his feet, afraid to frighten the horse. She bears a saddle, one with a chest strap and a name medallion, as well. "Epona?" he says softly, reading the metal. "Hey, there, girl." The horse nickers nervously, as if in response to her name. "Shh, it's okay, I'm not going to hurt you."

Link reaches out a wavering hand, ready to pull it back if Epona were to try to bite him, but to horse gingerly approaches, head outstretched to smell his open palm. She jerks at the touch, but finally pushes her nose into his hand, nuzzling and nickering. Link laughs and scratches her neck. He glances back at Sheik. "She's been socialised, at least. She's comfortable around people."

Epona is a massive horse, towering over Link. Her thick legs and broad face suggests cold blooded heritage, but her legs are also long—and carry her quickly, as Link sees—and her eyes are soft and kind. Link assures himself that she would be able to hold the weight of her dead master's body, though whether she'll want to or not is something else entirely.

Link turns to the boy's body. Sheik watches with an impassive gaze as he gathers the boy in his arms, dead weight surprisingly light as he lifts. He can hear the fairies' gasps as they realize the boy is no longer breathing.

Link approaches Epona, slow enough to avoid spooking her, but all the same she nickers and pulls her head away. Link heaves the boy onto the saddle, stomach down so he is draped over Epona's back. The horse shies away under the weight of his body, grunting nervously and ears flicking.

Link grabs the reigns and follows after Sheik as she leads the way through the broken, trodden, dead brush. A clear path is cut through the dry and brittle leaves, colors vibrant and rusting, like fresh and drying blood.

The procession is somber, quiet in the forest. The sounds of birds are the only melody their boots and hooves follow, crunching leaves and snapping twigs.

They break from the wood, Link having to coax a stamping Epona after them. The fairies have taken refuge in his pouch, peering from under the flap.

Remainders of trees, stumps, line the edge, and at the other side is a house, stable, and beyond that, fields.

Or, what's left.

The buildings are burned to smoldering floorboards and smoking posts. The field has been set afire, as well, though has been put out by either wind or a freak autumn shower.

"Goddesses," Link murmurs, eyes widening as he takes in the scene. "Wh-What happened?"

"Not even Gerudo burn buildings," Sheik says. She walks ahead, voice soft and footsteps nonexistent, picking her way through the ruins. They stand in what must be the stable. Link smells burning flesh and gags.

Sheik notices and points to a large shape lying half buried in the rubble. A horse.

Epona screams, a high-pitched squeal. Link rubs her neck in an effort to calm her, but has to return to the edge of the wood and tie her to a tree, leaving the boy on her back in company of two very shaken fairies. He joins Sheik, though his stomach tells him not to, at the house.

She's staring into space, though navigating the wreckage without problems.

"Where's the boy's family?" Link asks quietly.

Sheik shakes her head. "I can't sense them."

"They could've gotten away, too, right?"

She remains silent. Link's gut twists at the scent of something burning, but more horrible. He hopes the smell of blood is masked by the smoke.

After a moment of aimless searching, Link digs out a small box. No, a pictoframe, of a happy family of four. A young girl, perhaps seven, and parents. The boy stands beaming, two or three years younger in the pictograph. Link sniffs, removes the pictograph by the back of the frame, folds it neatly and tucks it into his pouch carefully. Sheik shouts—she's found something.

"What is it?" he calls back, voice wavering in the cool air that suddenly feels ice cold, already making his way through the splintered beams and ashes.

"You need to lift something."

"But aren't you s-strong en—"

"I may be a trained warrior," she says, staring at the area in front of her feet, "but I lack the raw strength that comes with being male."

He nods, stopping beside her. "What did you find?"

In ways of response, she says, "Grab here and lift."

Link sighs and does just so, jamming a thumb against something hard, straining under the weight of what seems to be a wall. He heaves, and cranes his neck to see underneath. He nearly lets go when he spots what Sheik is trying to save.

Beneath is the prone figure of a little girl.

Sheik crawls to her and gathers her in her arms, before dragging herself back on her knees. The girl is covered in horrible burns, a leg at a twisted angle, head lolling against the crook of Sheik's elbow. She isn't breathing.

Link drops the wall as soon as they escape from under it, breath so ragged it feels like he's about to throw up. His limbs shake, but after a minute, he pushes back his hair and clambers towards Sheik, who searches for a pulse.

She sits back on her heels. The answer is plain.

"Her parents?" Link says hopefully, quietly, staring at the girl's mangled face.

"Dead," Sheik says simply. Link swears he hears her voice waver, but the steel is there in the next breath, so maybe he imagined it. "Perhaps around here. They're deceased for certain, though."

Link pushes gently at the girl's head, so it rests better on the ground. Ash stains her cheek where he touches it. "Why weren't they with her, do you think?"

"What you lifted was the remains of a closet," Sheik says, slouching slightly. Her bowed head affords Link with another glimpse of her strange hair—the roots, now making up half of all of her hair, are a deep brown, startling alongside the white-blonde of the tips. "Her parents hid her in there when they were attacked, most likely."

Link's eyes widen, and then he drops his horrified gaze to the girl's round, ruined features. "And then...Oh, Farore..."

"The attackers set the house on fire, yes." Sheik shakes her head slowly, sadly.

"She burned alive." Link mumbles. "Oh, Goddesses."

"Or suffocated. Or was crushed." Sheik wipes the girl's cheek, smudging the soot. "The fire wasn't the thing that killed her, probably. It seems it simply compromised the buildings enough for it to collapse. Something put it out before it burned everything."

Link gets to shaking legs. Sheik looks up. "What are you doing?"

"Well, if we're to dig two graves," Link says, giving a dry smile, "we'll have to get started soon, right?"

Sheik nods, glancing back down at the girl. She holds one of her delicate, ash covered hands in hers. "Get the shovel from your bag."

"What bag?" Link says. Sheik glares him into a meek silence. "The adventure kit. Right."

"I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't make jokes."

Link sighs, his attempt at light-heartedness bowing his head in shame. "Right."

Sheik sighs, too, slightly exasperated, but all too tired. "Just go get the shovel."

* * *

**Tempest Bound: Hello, guy! A long chapter, eh?**

**On a side note, I have uploaded an original story (or what I actually completed of it) and would like your feedback, to see if it's worth continuing. It's not on here (obviously), nor is it on Fictionpress. It's on Tumblr, since it requires strike throughs, and neither of these websites support it. My tumblr is maythesememories-break-ourfall, the story is named Smoke, and if you so please, could you give feedback through the reviews on this story? Reblogs can get kinda messy. Thank you for your time. :)**


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

It's by the second grave, when the fire-colored light of sunset permeates every pore of the world, that Link remembers Sheik still has his hair tie. He doesn't even realize on his own; she has to watch as he pushes back his hair for the umpteenth time, before pulling it from her hair and holding it out to him from where she stands, next to the growing pile of dirt. They'd been taking turns, with only one shovel, and Sheik had been so quiet Link had forgotten she was there.

So he nearly jumps out of his skin when her hand appears in front of his face.

"Here," Sheik says, offering the tie to him.

Link blows out a breath, sweating in the cold. Thank goodness for layers. His fingers are numb, though, as he takes the tie from her. "Thanks," he mumbles, the piece of leather held between his teeth as he pulls his hair into its usual sloppy tail.

"It's my turn."

Link stares up at her. "Is it?"

"That's what you said fifteen minutes ago," Aster says. "Just give her the darn shovel!"

Link's numb face receives a rush of warmth from his blush. He laughs, though it turns into a coughing fit, he's breathing so hard. He pulls himself from the hole, which is two feet short of six. He had started his shift at two feet. So, yes, it's Sheik's turn.

Sheik pries the shovel from his frozen fingers and lowers herself into the hole. A clot of earth joins the pile a few moments later.

Link breathes on his hands and rubs them together, and the wind finally catches up with the rest of him; he begins to shiver. He calls down into the pit, "Where are we headed after?"

"Be patient," Sheik returns.

Link sighs and stamps his feet. Epona nickers from her spot, and shoves a warm muzzle in his face, breathing steaming air.

So of course he has to laugh.

* * *

When they finally lower the girl's body into the grave and shovel the dirt back in, the sun has set and only the barest of light tints the sky. Already, the stars have picked out their positions and have charted constellations. "Hey," Link says, pointing at the sky, "look, it's the Triforce."

Sheik peers at the stars. "It's nearly gone," she notes. "A late summer constellation."

"At least they'll be able to make a wish tonight," Link says softly, glancing at the packed earth at his feet.

They stay that way, at two unmarked graves, standing meters away from a killing field, beneath a frosty, glittering sky. Sheik starts towards Epona after bowing her head in prayer. Link stares at the graves a few moments more before joining her.

"You sure Epona'll be able to carry us both?" he says, watching as Sheik settles into the saddle. "I don't want to hurt her."

Epona dances under the weight of Sheik, champing at the bit, tossing her head and refusing her lead. Sheik tightens the reigns until Epona stops, neck arched, and snorts. She gives the horse's ribs a small kick and starts forward, not loosening her grip. "She's fine." Epona stops. "Now, get on."

"It feels kind of wrong, taking her," Link says, pulling himself up onto the saddle. Epona shifts beneath him.

"She's no use to a dead man." Sheik urges the horse onwards, heading for the burnt field. "The next person to find her might not be as kind."

He nods.

"You will fall off if you don't hold on."

He blushes. "S-Sorry." He gingerly wraps his arms around her waist, purposely avoiding actually touching her, but the bounce of the ride pushes his wrist to her stomach and he flinches.

"Are you hurt?" Sheik says.

"No."

"Why did you flinch?"

Link doesn't answer, face a bright red. She wouldn't hurt him for touching her, of course, but who's to say?

* * *

Sheik informs him that they are in a region known as Faron Woods, and are in fact delving deeper into it. "Not into the Deep Woods, though," she says.

"Shouldn't we stop for the night?"

"We're nearly there."

Aster and Sol haven't said much. Link reaches for his hair tie, before realizing his cap is gone. His father's cap. "Oh, no!"

"What is it?"

"My cap!" Link says, eyes wide. "I forgot my cap!"

"Oh, don't worry," Aster says, yawning, peering from the saddlebag. "I got it." She passes it off to him and he hugs it to his chest.

Link laughs in relief, a panicked note. "Oh, thank the Goddesses!"

"Why's it so important, anyhow?" Aster asks. "It's just a cap."

"It's my father's," Link says, carefully pulling it on. No wonder he felt so cold before.

"That's twice you've mentioned your father, and yet I didn't see him at your house," Sheik says, sounding puzzled.

Link's voice drops. "Oh, he's dead."

"May I ask how?"

"Uh, I'd rather not," Link says, staring off. "Well, I'm not sure myself. Mom didn't tell me details."

Sheik nods, barely perceptible in the dark, and hands Link the reigns. "We're here."

"Where exactly is 'here'?" he asks, steadying Epona as Sheik dismounts. He tries to follow, swinging his leg over, but his boot is caught in the stirrup as he touches the ground. He lands face first on the earth with a grunt.

"We are close to our destination," Sheik answers vaguely, glancing at him with a raised eyebrow. "I need to find something first."

"Find?" Sol says. "You mean you don't know where it is?"

Sheik doesn't bother answering him, but instead walks over to a massive tree. She pulls out a dagger and jams it into the wood, then another, and begins to climb, using the knives as hooks. Link is left to try to free himself from the stirrup, Epona trying to dance away from the commotion as Aster laughs and Sol helps as best he can.

With a final kick, Link is free, on his back, and Epona ambles over as if to make sure he is okay. He laughs as she nuzzles his face. He jumps at the sound of someone clearing their throat.

Sheik stands by the tree, a package under her crossed arms. The bark is studded with regular stabs, and already sap leaks from the damage.

Link doesn't get up, simply tilts his head up to look at her. "What's that you got?" The remainders of his laughter picks up at the end of his question.

"Supplies," she says simply. She takes the package in her hands and begins tearing at the paper.

He props himself on his elbows. "What kind of supplies?"

As way of answer, she shakes out what seems to be an exact replica of her old outfit: dark pants; more cloth strips, too much simply for gauntlets; an odd length of fabric, much longer than it is wide, with a hole in the center, patterned with a eye; a long-sleeved, black shirt, with excess material at the neck, to cover the mouth; various vials and needles; a black cloak and boots.

"Clothing?" Link says, getting to his feet, dusting off his cap and pulling it over his now tousled hair. "That's it? We came here for _clothing?"_

Sheik sighs and tosses the remainder of the package to him, smacking into his face, busy with her find. She begins unwrapping her gauntlets, and again her full sleeves spill out. Then the bandages from her feet are removed.

Link's eyes go wide, but then he diverts his gaze elsewhere, blushing fiercely. "Shouldn't you, uh, change privately?" he says, voice squeaking.

"It's fine."

"N-No, n-not really." He keeps his eyes fixated on the sky, through the canopy of leaves, black through green. "You should change s-somewhere e-else..."

He hears her sigh in exasperation. "I'm not naked, if that's what you're worried about."

Instinctively, he shoots her a glance, to find that it is true; beneath her dress had been breast bindings and tight shorts. His face flares more and he squeezes his eyes shut, stammering half-formed apologies.

Another sigh. He stays like that, eyes closed, face red, until a few minutes later, she says, "You can open your eyes."

"Are you sure?"

Something drops into his lap. "If you refuse to see, then at least get rid of this Goddess-forsaken dress."

He finally opens his eyes to find the white dress Sheik had been wearing in his lap. He braves a glance at her. "What do you want _me _to do with it?" He notices her hair is pulled back in the same braid she had when he first saw her, barely stretching the length of her neck. He thinks that it would be longer if she did it tighter.

"Burn it," she says, tightening Epona's girth. "Bury it. Anything, so long as it's no longer in my sights."

So he laughs and stuffs it into his adventure kit. Sheik purses her lips, giving him a vaguely annoyed look, before swinging into the saddle, as if she's about to leave him out here, stranded.

But she waits until he's joined her on Epona's back before continuing on their journey.

* * *

They take another path, left from the tree. A thought strikes Link. "What did you do with the vials?"

Sheik taps her chest, which gives a hollow glass sound. "Beneath my bindings."

"Where do you hide all of your weapons?" he says, perplexed. "I don't see that many pockets."

"Daggers in my boots," she says. "Some needles under my wrappings, some in the waist band of my pants. Knives strapped to my stomach and back, beneath the Eye of Truth. Why?"

"Eye of Truth?" Link asks. "You mean the thing on your chest and back?"

"The symbol of the Sheikah," she says.

"Where are we going?"

"You honestly haven't a suspicion?"

"Not a clue," Link says, shaking his head though she can't see him.

"We need to get into the Temple," Sheik says slowly, "but it's blocked by a veil of darkness. So we must find something to break through."

"Right."

"Still nothing?"

"No. Why do I feel like it should be obvious?"

"Have you not heard of the Blade of Evil's Bane?" Sheik prompts. "The Master Sword?"

Link pulls a face. "The one the Legendary Hero forged?"

"The same."

"We'll find it...how?"

Epona slows to a halt. "We're here."

"Where?"

Sheik jumps from the saddle. "The Sealed Grounds. The Sword sleeps in the Sealed Temple."

* * *

**Tempest Bound: Uh...next dungeon? XD**


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The clearing they break into is large, with a massive statue of Hylia at its center, facing a building that seems to be made of stone. Sheik makes for the structure immediately, not even sparing a glance at the statue, as if something so large were not at all out of the ordinary. Link follows, leading Epona.

The doors that were once grand are beaten and hewn by time. Chunks are missing from the stone walls; ivy and moss climb and pry at cracks. A wooden structure similar to a deck lies ten feet from the entrance, rotting and crumbling, revealing a sloping incline beneath, one that seems to wrap its way around Hylia's statue, like a spiral of earth.

Link kicks at a rotting plank. Steam spurts from the hole, startling Epona. The stream is hot and strong enough to sting his face.

Sheik stands before the doors, brow furrowed and head tilted. She reaches out a hand, but as it nearly touches the stone, a flurry of glowing runes appears on the surface and she jerks her arm back.

"It's warded," Sheik says. The symbols are throbbing and flickering, like a dying fire, orange and red amongst the forest's green and blue.

"Do you have an idea who did that?" Link says, patting Epona's neck absently. She snorts. "Was it a Sheikah?"

Sheik glances at him. "What makes you suggest that?"

"You can do magic," he answers, recalling the fire that started with a single flashing look from her. "I assumed..."

"No," she says. "This is different. Definitely not created by a Sheikah."

"What are we going do now, then?"

Sheik quirks an eyebrow as Link's stomach rumbles. "Perhaps some food."

He yawns. "And sleep."

* * *

Sadly, for Link, the sun rises a short hour after he falls asleep. He rolls over and goes back to sleeping. After a moment, he groans and sits up, rubbing his eyes. Sheik lies a few feet away, the fairies keeping watch among the foliage.

Sheik had told him, as they sat around another magic-created fire and cooked a rabbit they caught and ate berries they found, that there is another way into the Temple: entering the statue of Hylia, descending to the bottom, and through a passageway built after the Hero's quest.

Link gets to his feet and wanders toward the statue. How in Hyrule are they supposed to get inside? No doors, no hatches, certainly no passageways. The statue is as time-ravaged at the Temple, but if he cranes his neck and peers upward, he can make out what seems to be a platform, and almost directly below that, on the ground, is a large circular disc of stone set into the earth. Strangely, he feels as if he's been here before, but he's never set foot beyond the forest outside his hometown of Anlage. Odd.

He stands at the foot of the statue—quite literally, in front of where the goddess' feet would be below her skirts. He takes a step forward, feeling as if he'd done this times before, and the wall vanishes.

He freezes, blinks hard, rubs his eyes. What—?

He backs up and the stone returns. He takes a step forward, and, again, the wall disappears. He stares at the statue a few moments more, dumbfounded, before running for Sheik.

"Miss Sheik!" he exclaims. "Miss Sheik, hurry! Wake up!"

A sudden weight pushes him to the ground, stomach down, with a grunt. Link tries getting up to find that he can't.

"What is it? What's happened?"

Sheik crouches above him, swords drawn, eyes darting about. A foot rests on Link's back, keeping him down; when he struggles to get up, she gives him a push, saying, "Stay down!"

"No, no, really, it's fine." Link attempts to roll over, gasps as she presses harder on his side. "I...I can't breathe...!"

She releases him and he begins coughing. "What happened?"

Link presses a hand to his side and winces. "I'm sorry if I scared you." He gets unsteadily to his feet, giving a pained breath of air.

"What. Is. It?"

"I...I found our way into Hylia's Statue."

* * *

It takes them an extra half-hour to prepare, with Epona. Sol volunteers to stay behind, and somehow Link isn't all too surprised.

"Aw, sissy," Aster says, and Link imagines her pouting. "You're no fun. Even Link's coming!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Link says, but is ignored.

"W-Well..." Sol starts. "S-Someone has to stay with Epona, and I know none of you would want to, so I thought..."

"Fine!" says Aster. "_Fine._"

"So I guess I'll see you later, guys..."

Sheik watches the exchange with something resembling growing annoyance. "Let's go, then." She turns on her heel and starts toward the statue.

Link follows, but realizes that Aster isn't doing the same. He looks back. "Come on; Miss Sheik will go on without us if you don't hurry."

"Bro's being a big wimp."

Link frowns. "Yes, I know, but—"

"—but I'm not leaving him."

No one has ever seen the face of a fairy amongst their glow, but Link swears Aster crosses her arms and raises her chin stubbornly. He knows he could win an argument against her, but does he really have the time? Not even enough the time to ask why, he knows. "If you're sure..." he says. Link fiddles with his scabbard's belt and the straps of his shield, but Aster doesn't say anything more.

When he joins Sheik by the statue, Link can tell she's confused. Frankly, he is too.

"Where is Aster?" she asks.

"She's...decided to stay behind."

"Very well," Sheik says, and then frowns again. "Where is this entrance? If it's hidden with magic, then I can't sense it."

"You can't?" Link says. "It's right over here."

Again, the wall vanishes as he draws near. Sheik's frown deepens. "It's magic, almost definitely," she says. "So why can't I...?" She clicks her tongue. "It's of little concern, I suppose. You're beginning to surprise me, Link."

Link laughs. "I'm surprising myself, too, Miss Sheik." He glances at her, catching her glare. "...What?"

"Don't refer to me as 'miss'."

He blushes bright red. "I-I'm sorry. W-Would you p-prefer 'ma'am'?"

"That's worse," she says. "Sheik will do."

"Right, Mi—" He catches himself, laughs nervously, blush deepening, ears reddening. "R-Right. Sheik."

The first step through throws them into shadow. The passage is cool and damp, almost claustrophobic, with tons of stone above them.

Aging stone. Weakening stone.

"A-Are you sure w-we're not going to die in a c-cave in?"

Sheik doesn't answer. They enter into a chamber, one that is circular and with vaulted ceilings, pillars at regular intervals. On the side opposite to them is a Hyrulian Crest crafted from some sort of crystal, floating above a compartment holding a tablet, inset with three gems: green, red and yellow.

At the center of the room is a pedestal, one made for a sword.

"Where are we?" Link says, awed. The odd feeling of having been here before returns, crashing over him in waves. "I...I feel as if..." Why does he suddenly feel like crying?

"This is the Goddess Sword's chamber," Sheik says.

He nearly answers that he knew already, but how could he?

"The Legendary Hero pulled it from its pedestal, at the bidding of the blade's spirit." She pauses. "He forged that original sword into the Master Sword."

Link realises he's shaking. He hugs himself and nods. "Yeah, they put a play on each year at the Temple for the little kids. About the legend." He stares at the crystal Crest. "Do you know his name? The Hero's, I mean."

Sheik shrugs. "Lost to time." She starts for the tablet's dais. "Come."

He follows after a moment's hesitation. He's been here before, definitely. Multiple times. But as to when or why...

Behind the dais, Sheik pries a stone loose from the floor and pulls up. Beneath it is stairs, descending into black.

Link gulps. "It's dark, don't you think?"

"Flick the Pendant," Sheik says.

He furrows his brow, staring at her for a second, then complies. Again, particles swirl around the Pendant, and it begins glowing, emitting light. "Oh. Cool!" He nods. "Let's go."

* * *

The stairs go on and on and on, broken up only by sparsely spaced rooms, each filled with growing numbers of monsters and creatures.

In the fifth room, as Sheik finishes off another round of bats, the ground shakes with a roar.

Sheik freezes, the last bat dropping to the ground, decapitated, its blood staining her blade. "What was that?"

Link nurses a bruise, created by a particularly persistent moblin and its crude club. "I don't know. Hey, I found...something."

Hanging from a leather strip around the moblin's neck is an odd, cube-like figurine. It is made of a gold-colored metal, its molded features resembling a spider.

Sheik shrugs and says she doesn't know what it is, so they continue on.

* * *

The puzzles start in the room over. The first requires the use of the Light Pendant.

The room fills with light. Link grins and begins pulling the Pendant free. "See? That wasn't too hard, right?"

The clanging of metal and the clattering of locks rings out. He whirls toward the door, to find a grate has dropped down, and bars on the other. Sheik pulls at it, but it is either too heavy or somehow held down to the floor, so after a moment, she gives up.

"W-What's happening?" Link asks, to no one in particular. Then he hears the stamp of heavy feet and feels the hot breath on his neck.

Sheik lunges past him, and metal on metal clangs. Link turns around, sword and shield ready, though shaky. Before him, currently being beaten back by Sheik, is a moblin, again, but one huge and lumbering, carrying a large wooden shield and spear. Sheik lunges for any exposed areas, but her reach again is too short and she can't stab around the shield.

Without thinking, Link runs forward, just as the moblin thrusts its spear at Sheik. Pain shoots up his arm as the tip collides with his shield, throwing him backwards. He looks up in time to see Sheik launch herself upwards, pulling herself atop the monster's shoulders, and stabs her swords into the back of its neck.

Monster blood spurts everywhere, black and steaming, drenching Sheik as the titan falls forward on its stomach. Before it hits the ground, Sheik hops off, rolling to a stop.

The room is silent for a minute, save for the duo's ragged breathing. Then, "You're kind of covered in blood." Link laughs, then rubs at his arm, wincing. "Ow."

Sheik gets to her feet. "Certainly they must have taught you more than how to run headlong into a fray while in training."

Link chews his lip and staggers up, but doesn't answer, laughter forgotten.

"Look at your shield."

He does, and nearly faints.

The spear point had dented the metal, bending it inwards, pressing against his arm. The paint along the dent has been completely stripped off. It's a wonder he's gotten away with merely bruises. "I..."

"Use your sword, your shield more so," Sheik says. "It will save your life. Go for weak spots: head, gut, chest, neck, limbs if you have to. Cut off armor and destroy defenses as needed."

Link keeps staring at his arm, mouth hanging slightly open. "I..."

"Never give your opponent a chance to fight back," Sheik continues, glaring hard at Link, "but know when to bide your time or back down. Are you listening?"

"I...I..."

"You what?" she snaps. "Spit it out already."

"I..." Link looks up at her, eyes wide, the hand around the hilt of his sword white-knuckled. He's shivering and his voice wavers. "I nearly died, didn't I?"

Sheik stares at him and something in her face softens, if only slightly. She's tight-lipped and decidedly statue-like. "Just remember what I said." She sighs. "Please."

He nods, sniffing. "Okay."

And at the center of the room, a burst of light reveals a treasure chest.

* * *

**Tempest Bound: First mid-boss, and Link nearly dies? Yes, that's right. Clearly, Link, you'll need more training...-.-**


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Link and Sheik stare at the chest that had just appeared in a flash of light, and it is Sheik who breaks the silence and stillness of the room by looking at Link and saying, "You should open it."

And Link answers, "Why me?"

"If my theory is correct," she says, "you will need to open it."

Link finally gives an unsteady sigh and makes his way to the center of the room, skirting the fallen moblin that still spills blood onto the stone, one shaking foot in front of the other. His shield feels unbalanced, and just a little bit too brittle.

The chest, he realizes, is different than the others they've found in the underground passage so far. There are more runes and details, and the wood seems somehow more ancient without rotting or cracking. The hinges are gold instead of silver, and when he lifts the lid, inside is what the other boys—_like Drae_—would call a boomerang.

The Boomerang is made of something other than the usual wood, perhaps bone, but it seems too light for that.

It is, however, amazingly white and surprisingly not yellowed with time. One wing is longer and fluted—or perhaps the grooves are like the fuller of a sword, to lighten the weapon without sacrificing strength, or looks. Or maybe they are gouges and he's reading things wrong, and they're just claw or teeth marks.

"A Boomerang?" he says, looking at Sheik. "I wouldn't even know how to use one."

"No?" she says. "Don't boys beg one from their mother?"

"Well, the other boys did." His smile is sheepish as he gets up. "Dra—One of them, he...he used it once to hit a beehive, to make it fall."

"I hope he was stung," Sheik says.

"It...wasn't him who was stung."

Sheik studies Link for a moment. "Why were you standing beneath the nest?"

Link goes bright red. "What makes you say that?"

She gestures to his neck, and he covers the scar. "Must have been a bad sting, to leave a mark."

Link looks away. "It wasn't too bad, really."

"But the question stands," she says. "Why were you standing beneath a beehive?"

He shrugs. "I guess I didn't notice it when he told me to stay—" He claps a hand over his mouth, blush deepening. "Uh, you didn't hear that."

"I heard it quite clearly," Sheik notes. "Boys frequently haze someone weaker."

"It wasn't hazing—" Link catches her unbelieving look. "Well, it wasn't. I...wasn't trying to join their group, or anything." He stares at his boots morosely. "It wasn't just boys, either..."

"Oh, girls, as well?"

Link looks up, face pink, smiling helplessly. "It was kind of pick-on-the-freak-day."

Sheik frowns. "Not a fun day, that. Not for you."

He laughs. "I'm just happy Sepia wasn't there—he would've gotten a bit of it as well."

* * *

There's more rumbling as they descend further into the statue. Finally, bloodied and tired, they find the passageway.

It is absurdly dark. Link runs his hands along the wall so he won't miss branching paths, and his gloves are soon soaked with moisture. He can feel the slope they climb. He shakes off the cold drops. "How much longer, do you think?"

Though he can't make out Sheik in the darkness, her voice places her somewhere in front. He can't hear her footsteps over his own, heavy on the slippery stone, heavier than they should be, probably. "I see a dim light."

Link squints. "You do?"

"It's blue."

A few minutes later, yes, he can see it. It lights up Sheik's silhouette, and he can see she is holding her swords by her side. Over her shoulder, he can make out an exit.

The room they enter is humid. Link recognizes the front stone doors of the Temple, but now from beyond them. Wind pushes through the cracks, steady and whistling, like the breath of a great beast.

The ground is covered in moss, the walls in ivy. At the other end of the room is a set of stairs leading to a dais, at the center of which is a pedestal.

From which sprouts a sword, its winged hilt royal purple in the dim light, its silver blade shining harshly.

He again feels the crushing sadness of this place, the strange happiness. The finality. He hears the shattering of glass and looks up to beyond the sword, towards the doors that stand slightly ajar.

"Sheik, did you—"

She shushes him, frozen. The wind whispers, the only sound besides soft clicking and dripping water.

_Soft...clicking?_

Sheik whirls toward the door, launching a throwing knife in a flurry of cloth. Silence for a moment, stillness, save for her breath.

And then a scream.

The clicking intensifies, and a shape looms from the shadows, crossing the thin ribbon of light pouring from between the doors. Clattering, pained noises. Whatever it is heaves itself onto the dais, and then Link can see it: a massive eight-legged arachnid, one of its eyes skewered by a knife, leaking dark blue blood.

It screeches, clicking its mandibles, and rushes for them. Sheik tackles Link out of the way. He would've been killed had she not; he was frozen, wide-eyed and with bated breath.

The spider crashes into the wall behind them and screams again.

Something white catches Link's eye and he looks up at the ceiling, nearly shouting. Above are silk-sealed capsules, hanging five feet above their heads. He backs up into a wall, his feet kicking something. When he looks, he finds a skull, directly beneath a silk-capsule. "S-Sheik! The ceiling!"

"Eggs!" she shouts. "Cut them down, or they'll hatch and we'll be eaten!" She dodges another charge, slashing with a sword, but the blade glances off, simply cutting off hairs. The spider screams in frustration, swiping at her.

"How?" he says. His sword won't reach, he doesn't have a bow—not that he would be able to use one—so—

"Just do it! Now!"

He panics and pulls out the first thing his hand finds in the adventure kit. He stares at it a moment and his stomach drops.

The Boomerang.

He looks up at the sound of clicking. The spider is busy with Sheik, who back flips off walls to make it crash. Her swords aren't doing much.

But that's not what he heard. He looks up.

A glistening eye, swaddled in silk, stares back.

He yelps and whips the Boomerang at it instinctively. The weapon flies, curving, and slices through the silk holding the pod up. The white capsule crashes to the ground, exploding at the impact, splattering blue blood and slime everywhere. The Boomerang comes back, hitting Link in the gut as he fails to catch it, and clatters to the ground.

He picks it up as Sheik yells at him to keep cutting the pods down; he does so, and one slams into the spider.

The spider collapses beneath the weight of the egg sac, and Sheik shouts, "Link, the sword!" as she runs toward the squirming arachnid.

Link unfreezes and rushes for the sword. He grabs the hilt in both hands, and pulls.

He didn't expect it to come out so easily, and so he ends up on his rear, having pulled too hard. He jumps to his feet, and turns around.

Before him stands a bleeding spider, seven of eight eyes punctured and leaking. Sheik dives for the last, the largest.

But her sword does not sink through.

The spider rears, tossing her, sending her flying, slamming into a wall. Link shouts her name, and the spider clicks its mandibles at her, shakily making its way to her prone form.

Link doesn't think; it's as if the sword has a life of its own, and he finds himself, a moment later, atop a collapsed spider, the blade plunged deep into its eye, blood welling around his boots and pooling with the mess of entrails at his feet. The spider gives a last shudder and lies still.

Link is hunched over the blade, breathing ragged, forehead on the pommel. He sucks in a hard breath. What...what just happened?

_Sheik!_

He abandons the sword, still sticking from the spider, and rushes to her side. "Sheik, are you okay? Oh, please, don't be dead!"

Sheik groans and pushes up to his elbows. "I'm not dead, Link." She gasps and clutches her head. "What happened?"

"I..." he says, grasping for words, "I...don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

"I mean—I just—I pulled the sword and—"

Sheik blinks. "You pulled the Sword?"

He blows a breath out, shoving back his bangs. "Yes, I did, and—"

"I was right."

Link freezes. "What? Right? About what?"

Sheik gets to her feet, wincing as she stretches her back. "I can't touch the Sword."

"Really?" he says. "No, that can't be right—"

"—because only the Hero can."

Link stares at her, dumbfounded.

And then he cracks up.

He laughs so hard that it brings tears to his eyes and his stomach aches. Hands on his knees, his laughter turns into a cough, but then he realizes something.

Sheik isn't laughing.

He looks up at Sheik, who stands with an odd look on her face. "That's funny, Sheik," he says, forcing a laugh when she simply stares back. "Hilarious. I didn't know you were so great at telling jokes!"

She glowers. "I am not joking."

"You...you must be!" he exclaims. Silence. "You're not kidding. Oh, Nayru. You're not kidding, are you?"

"Why would I joke?"

"It's just...me?" Link says, voice strained, pointing at himself. "Of all the people in Hyrule..._me?"_

She nods. "Seems to be."

"The Goddesses made a mistake," he says. "Why is there even a second Hero? Wasn't one enough?"

"Every time the Demon King rises, a Hero shall meet him," Sheik says, "and so it shall be."

"Everyone's just confused," Link says. "I'm not a Hero. I can't even kill a moblin! It nearly killed _me!"_

"If you don't believe me," she answers, and gestures to the fallen spider, "pull the Sword."

He stares at her, then turns slowly to look. In his absence, the flesh around the blade had begun to smoke and disintegrate. The husk groans and gives. The Sword clatters to the ground, and soon the only thing left of the corpse is a shimmering red, heart-shaped object, created from something like crystal. It glitters in the dim light.

Link walks over gingerly, and reaches out a hand, accidently kicking the gemstone heart. He looks down. "What's...what's that?"

"A Heart Container. Pick it up, but first, the Sword." He can hear her sigh. "If you won't believe me, perhaps you'll believe it when you don't turn to ash like the spider."

That makes him pause. He laughs nervously. "I won't, right?"

She doesn't answer.

"Sheik!"

"You won't."

And so he finally grabs the Sword from the ground and hefts it upwards. The blade is unblemished, not even by the spider's blood. It is perfectly weighted for him, surprisingly. He'd expected it to be heavier. Hadn't the hero been stronger than him? Link realizes something.

He isn't burning.

"There," Sheik says, appearing beside him. She bends down and picks up the Heart Container and offers it to him. "Now, here."

He takes it from her. "What do I do with it?" He pauses. "What does it even _do?"_

"Crush it beneath your boot," she says, stepping back. "It gives you strength."

"Oh, like energy?"

"You'll...be less susceptible to injury."

Link frowns. "Don't you want it?"

"You can only use eight before the adverse effects begin showing," she says. "I've used my share. Go on."

He blinks, sets the Heart Container on the ground, and steps on it. Immediately, tendrils of smoke swirl around him, and then they are gone. He cocks his head. "I don't feel different."

"Where are your bruises, then, Hero?"

Link searches for them, and Sheik is right: they're gone. He registers what she said. "What did you call me?"

"Hero, for that's what you are." Her face is serious. "The Blade of Evil's Bane recognizes you."

He stares down at the Master Sword. And, strangely, it feels right.

* * *

**Tempest Bound: I'd love if you guys took the time to tell me your theories as to where this story is headed in the reviews. :)**

***insert Zelda jingle here* YOU GOT THE MASTER SWORD!**


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Sheik tests the doors leading out, the doors they would have entered through, and finds them no longer warded. Link remains staring at the Sword in his hand, and then, remembering something, glances to the other doors standing beyond the pedestal. He takes the steps two at a time, ignoring Sheik's curious voice.

He ducks into the room, and orange crystal shards crunch beneath his boots—or, he hears and feels them, but when he looks, there's nothing. The feeling vanishes, along with the sudden despair, and suddenly he is happy, ecstatic, even. And then it is gone.

Link returns to the main room, and Sheik raises an eyebrow at him. Even her brows are brown now, along with the rest of her hair. Her eyes have softened from reddish-purple to a crystal-like periwinkle, a cross between blue and purple.

Link quirks a smile. "I...I thought I heard something earlier. I just needed to see what it was."

"What was it, then?"

He sighs and looks over his shoulder. "I think—" He shakes his head and laughs. "No. It's nothing."

* * *

It takes them a day and a half to make it back to Anlage. What Sheik says is fifteen minutes from the town, she stops Epona and dismounts.

"What are you doing?" Link says, making to dismount, as well.

She places a hand on his leg to stop him."Go on ahead, Hero. I shall meet you there." After making sure he won't follow her, she starts toward the forest again.

He shakes his head in confusion. "Where are you going?"

Sheik doesn't pause, but over her shoulder, she says, "I shall meet you there."

He watches as she disappears into the forest, the same his father went into nineteen years previous.

* * *

Link rides, however haltingly and unskilled, into Anlage. Aster mutters from the saddlebag, "Why so serious, there, Link?"

He'd been named Hero, given a responsibility he is woefully unequipped and unable to do. He'd just saw Sheik enter a forest his father died in. But he doesn't say any of it. "It's nothing, Aster. I'm fine, really."

"You don't sound 'fine'," says Sol.

"Don't worry; I am."

The two fairies clearly do not believe his words—he'd always been a bad liar—but a voice sends them into hiding, as he'd told them to do.

"Hey, runt!"

Link reigns Epona in. He hadn't even realized he'd entered Anlage, preoccupied with avoiding his thoughts. He glances around for the owner of the voice and finds a familiar face. "L-Lea?"

She gets to her feet from her spot by her house. Link notices she is wearing a soldier's uniform. "Where'd you get the workhorse?"

His face burns. "Sh-She's n-not a w-workhorse."

She ignores his comment. Instead, she plucks his regular sword from its loop on the saddlebags' straps.

"H-Hey! Give th-that b-back!"

A sword's tip at his throat. He gulps and Lea barks a laugh. "You let Drae go, didn't you, runt? _Didn't_ you?"

"I d-didn't—"

She grabs him by his leg and unseats him with a heave. Her face is hard and her eyes shining. _"I hate you!"_

Link scrambles to his feet, and Epona whinnies, tossing her head. Link backs into her side as Lea again presses the sword to his neck.

"You killed him!" she shouts. "You let him die!"

"Lea?"

Lea turns her head towards the voice; Link doesn't try to and can't see the speaker. Lea's voice cracks. "What do you want, Nate?"

"What in Din's name are you—Oh." Nate appears at the edge of Link's vision; he can make out a few other people, as well. "You found him, did you?"

Lea pulls the sword back. Someone kicks Link to the ground. The blow does not hurt much, but his face reddens further and he feels like he's about to cry.

"Hey, nice sword, runt!" someone says, as he makes to cover his face. Perhaps the small inset gem at the cross guard glints in the sunlight as he moves. He feels the person place a hand on the hilt.

Link shouts, "Don't—"

The person jerks their arm back with a curse. "The thing burned me!"

"What?" Lea says. There's shouting as everyone tries talking over each other. Link rolls onto his knees and tries getting up, but a foot to his gut sends him back to the ground.

"What did you do?!" Nate demands, at his ear, face red with anger. "You put something on the hilt, didn't you?"

Link coughs, opens his mouth to say something. A kick to his face makes him pull his arms up to protect his head.

"Hey!" says a tiny voice. "Stop it!"

Link looks up, just as another foot slams into his back. "Please, Aster! Don't—" A kick to his gut leaves him gasping and pain-ridden. He pulls his legs to his chest, arms over his head, and tries not to cry, to not let the tears win—let _them _win—and fails.

His sobbing only seems to fuel his attackers' anger. Someone lands a blow to his jaw, and he can feel his lip swelling already. Blood, warm and sticky, pours from a cut on his brow.

But then, they stop.

It does not happen all at once; one person freezes, and then two, then five, then all.

Angry words are flung like knives.

"What are _you _looking at?" snaps a cracking-voiced Lea.

"I'd think," says a new voice, "that soldiers would know more of honorable actions. Even those still in training."

"What—hey!"

A warm hand touches Link's aching shoulder. He refuses to look up, burying his wet face in his arms, trying to hide his hiccupping breath. "Link?"

After a moment, he raises his head, and he can feel his bloody lip and brow, throbbing in the sunlight. He almost doesn't recognize the face, with the again white-blonde hair and red eyes, but, crouching next to him, is Sheik.

Link smiles, but finds it hurts, bruises and cuts stretching and pulling. "I thought you...said you don't...dye your...hair."

Her eyes widen slightly, enough to reveal her shock to him but no one else. Her face hardens. "Are you okay?"

Link tries to brush it off, releasing a cracking, staccato laugh, but his voice catches and breaks into a sob. He shuts his eyes tightly, squeezing out tears, and he feels his swollen face heat up again. He hears Sheik move and opens his eyes.

She's standing, and turns slowly to face the group of soldiers, who suddenly look nervous. "Where is his sword?"

"H-His sword?" says Lea. "It's where it's supposed to be, on his back—"

"Where. Is. His. Sword?"

She shrugs desperately, glancing at the others as if for support. "I don't know—"

And then Sheik is at Lea, knife to her throat. Lea gasps and freezes. "Why are you holding it?" Sheik asks, voice calm and even. "Drop it."

Lea lets go, and the sword clatters to the ground. Everyone, including Link, is frozen.

"Good," Sheik says, but does not release her. She looks around, eyes like ice. "Has anything else been taken from him?"

No one moves.

"This knife is not my only weapon," she says, speaking to the boy behind her without looking, who had just drawn a dagger, quietly. "Drop yours. Return his necklace and bag."

Everyone scrambles to comply.

Lea gasps again as Sheik presses at her throat and blood beads around the blade. "Now—"

"Sheik?" Link's voice is small and shaken.

She pauses, looks at him, eyes flinty and a mess of anger, controlled like a reigned beast, used to her advantage and frightening and terrifying. "Yes?"

He pushes himself up on his hands, gasping in pain, reaching for his side, face smeared with his own blood. "Don't...don't hurt her...or any of...them." He hiccups and bites back a cry of pain.

Sheik stares at him a moment, then says quietly, "Why?"

Link shakes his head, too quickly, and his face drains of color. "Don't."

A second of silence. Then Sheik lets go of Lea, who falls gasping to the ground, hands at her throat. No one helps her up; instead, as if released from a spell, they run. Lea scrambles to her feet and, with one angry look at Sheik, runs, too.

Sheik walks over to Link, who is having difficulty even getting to his knees, much less find his legs or breath. "Why did you do that?"

He stops, breath ragged. "Just help me."

She leans down and loops an arm around his waist, draping his arm over her shoulders. Together, they get to their feet.

Link winces. "Let's...find my mother."

* * *

Link leans heavily on Sheik, which he apologizes for constantly as they stagger to his home. Sheik doesn't say anything, even as Epona follows without being lead. They stop at the door and Sheik knocks three times before it opens.

Mella answers, and then her face turns ashen. "Link! What happened?" She lends a shoulder, as well, and helps him in. "Oh, you poor thing!"

They help Link onto his bed, and Sheik pauses by the door. "Where would I be able to hitch a horse, ma'am?" she asks.

Mella frowns. "A horse?" When she doesn't answer, Mella sighs and shakes her head. "Take it around to the back."

Sheik nods and leaves. Mella stops a moment and disappears into the kitchen, out of Link's room, leaving him alone.

_Cracked ribs, maybe,_ Link tells himself, shifting only slightly but gasping in pain. Head trauma, he thinks, as his eyesight darkens around the edges. Definitely a swollen, perhaps split, lip.

His mother returns then, with a bowl of a red, thick soup. He doesn't recognize it, but doesn't bother asking, knowing it will only hurt him more if he tries to speak. Mella must read his curious face, because she says, "Red potion soup. Great for pain killing," with a sniff. Tears gather in her eyes.

"Thanks," he breathes, biting back a pained yelp.

She gives a breaking laugh. "No need to thank me, honey. I'm your mother. I'm supposed to take care of you." She places the bowl on a stool and says, "But before that, I'll have to..." She leaves again.

Link stares at the bowl the entire time she is away. Even if he could stretch to reach it, he wouldn't make it without falling out of bed.

Mella returns this time with a water basin, rags, and cloth bandages, along with various bottles Link had seen her use on patients before. She drops the bottles next to the bowl, grabs a rag, and presses it to his forehead. "Now, this may hurt—"

It's not too painful, while she cleans his face. The cut isn't too deep or long, despite the amount of partially dried blood streaking his forehead, cheeks, nose and chin. Half-way through, Sheik appears in the doorway, in company of two fairies.

"You look like you've been through hell," Aster comments.

He almost laughs. "I...feel like...I have." Then he remembers something, nearly attempts sitting up, startling Mella. "Where's the...Sword?"

Sheik shakes the scabbard—Link's scabbard—in her hand, the one he'd received with his original sword; now, it houses much more powerful and potent a blade.

Link sighs, glad to see its hilt now wrapped in cloth, wincing as he breathes, settling back down. "...Good."

"How badly is he injured, ma'am?" Sheik asks.

"Well, I haven't done a full check-up," Mella answers, apologizing when Link flinches when she presses the rag to his lip. "What happened?"

Link decides he likes this side of his mother a lot, as well, the side that lets her ask these questions without crying, that lets her use her skills without her emotions interfering too much.

"He was beaten."

Mella stiffens. "I can see that, yes." She pauses in her work and glances at Sheik. "Who was it?"

Sheik doesn't answer for a moment, as if pondering whether or not to reveal names. "Do you know a Lea?"

"What? Her—?"

"Nate? Dale? Minta?"

"Oh," Mella says. "That lot...yes, I know of them." She looks at Link, as if sorry to remind him of his childhood tormentors. "Did they kick him?"

"Mom...it's fine, really...!" Link winces.

"Don't talk, honey; you're hurting yourself," she says quietly. She glances back at Sheik. "Well, did they?"

She nods, the movement nearly imperceptible. "Yes. Seventeen times."

Mella stares at Sheik a moment, but seems to let it go. "He'll have bruising. Possibly cracked ribs, even broken if they kicked hard enough."

She drops the rag on the floor and begins pulling up Link's tunic. After a several minutes of apologies and pained whimpering, it, the shirt of mail, and the shirt beneath it, is off. She shakes her head at the bruises, prodding for injuries not as visible.

Link bites his lip to hold back a scream, but it still tears it way out of his throat as a strangled, harsh noise.

Mella sits back. "Seems like there are only bruises." She heaves a sigh of relief. "He's had worse, so he'll be fine."

"Worse?" Sheik says. "I can't imagine what might be worse than being beaten bloody, even if it's only bruises."

"Oh, once when he was younger," Mella says, laughing at the memory, "a neighbor took him home with a broken leg and arm, but they were pretty badly broken, with part of the bones poking through the skin."

"How in Hylia's name did he get that?"

"Oh, probably climbing trees," Mella says. She laughs. "What was it again, Link?"

"Climbing...yes," Link answers. "Trees, no."

"Oh, yes, wasn't it the wall?" Mella shakes her head, looking at Sheik with a smile. "An adventurous child, he was." She finishes wrapping his forehead and chest, tight enough so it will difficult to move, as if he wanted to. Then, reaching for the soup, she realizes something. "Oh! Forgot the spoon! Silly me; I'll be right back."

As soon as she leaves, Sheik says, "Was it really a childhood misadventure?"

"Sheik...please—"

"Link."

He sighs. "No, it wasn't."

"Then what was it?"

"A...prank. It was just...a joke, honest...!"

Sheik looks sceptical. "What mere joke would leave a child with two badly broken limbs?"

He doesn't answer. Mella returns with the utensil, and begins spooning soup into Link's mouth.

She notices the tense silence and frowns. "Is something wrong?"

* * *

**Tempest Bound: it seems the longest chapters have been bloody/sad/violent ones.**

**...I'm not a sadist, I promise!**


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Mella is anxiously wringing a piece of her hair, brow furrowed. "Are you sure? I'd be fine sleeping on the floor."

"No," Sheik says. "One shouldn't impose on a host. The floor will do."

"Oh, you're not imposing at all!" she says, gesturing to her bedroom door. "You're welcome to take my bed. I need to stay with Link, anyway."

"If you are worried about how he'll fare during the night, I'll know what to do if anything were to happen, ma'am."

"But—"

"...Mom?" Link calls, his voice fading into a suppressed coughing fit.

Mella rushes to his room, Sheik following. "Yes, honey?"

"You won't be...able to change her mind," he says, smiling wryly. "Let her...have her way. It's easier." He winces and then groans, setting his head back on the pillow.

"If...if you're sure," Mella says, playing with the same bit of hair. She turns to face Sheik. "You know what to do if—"

"If he is to experience severe pain, I am allowed to give him another dose of red potion," Sheik answers. "If he were to stop breathing or otherwise have extreme problems, I wake you. Correct?"

"Y-Yes. But you're only—"

Sheik nods. "Right; how careless of me. Only one bowl every two hours."

Mella sighs. "Good. I—I guess I'll see you tomorrow. There are blankets in the closet." She nods and kisses Link on his head, soft enough to not hurt him. "Sweet dreams." And then she leaves.

"Th...the blankets...are in that closet," Link says, lifting a hand to point. "Pillows, too."

Sheik nods and opens it, stretching for something on a shelf. After a moment, she says, "What is this?"

In the darkness, Link cannot see what she is referring to. "What?"

Sheik appears by his side, silent as ever, making him start and wince. Only then, of course, is when he realizes he's shirtless. She pushes something rough and hard into his hand.

He breathes a strangled laugh. "It's my cast."

She takes it back, and Link can imagine her turning it this way and that to examine it, despite the gloom. "Cast?"

"The one old man Yarrow gave me...when I broke my arm and leg," he says. "The one from my leg...should be with it."

"Wouldn't it have been a splint? I have a hard time believing this town would have easy access to plaster."

"Just so happens," he coughs, catches his breath, "that they were fixing a building...when I fell. There...was plaster...left over."

"Ah." She returns to the closet. Link hears the sound of cloth, and then she's back by his bedside, laying the blankets on the ground on top of a mat.

Silence reigns, and Link has to strain to hear Sheik lying down, she's so quiet. After a moment more silence, he closes his eyes, sighs, and tries to fall asleep.

Minutes pass. "Link."

"Hm?" he says, nearly turning his head to look at her out of habit.

"What really broke your arm and leg?"

He shifts a bit, regrets it when it makes him wince. "I've...been complaining to you a lot...You don't want another sob...story from me."

"Yours is a story I haven't heard yet," Sheik says. "No one should suffer alone, correct?"

"W-Well, y-yes—"

"You will tell me, then?"

Link sighs.

* * *

_"Hey, runt!"_

_ Link looks up at the voice, already used to responding to the insult by the age of seven, and immediately ducks his head when he sees who it is: Drae, Lea, and their gang. He keeps his eyes locked on his fists, using one to crush the paper boat he'd been making and sits on it to hide the evidence._

_ "Didya hear?" breathes a pink-faced Drae. "A __**dragon nest!"**_

_ That catches his attention. If his ears could, they would've twitched and perked. He looks back up at the smirking faces of the other children. "Dr-Dragon?"_

_ "It's true!" Lea says, nodding quite believably. "Up on the wall. Too bad we can't go see it."_

_ "Why n-not?" Link asks, eyes widening. A dragon! A nest, no less! "Why c-can't w-we go see it?"_

_**"Because,"**__ says Drae, earning a laugh from the others, "it's not __**safe **__goin' up on th'wall."_

_ "Sure i-it is," Link says, scrunching up his face, trying to hide the blush on his cheeks and his red ears. "I-I go up there a-all the time."_

_ Lea grins, giggling. "Really?"_

_ He nods fiercely. "Y-Yeah."_

_ They can quite obviously tell he's lying, but Link doesn't realize this. There aren't adults around, either, to stop the inevitable._

_ "Oh," Lea says, pouting. "But I can't go up there. Mama'll get mad."_

_ "Me, too," Drae adds, mimicking her overdramatic slouch. "Too bad. I wanted to see the nest..."_

_ "I-I'll d-do it...!"_

* * *

"And the rest...as they say...is history," Link says. "There was never a dragon's nest...of course. How...stupid, gullible, idiotic...could one kid _be?"_

"Maybe there was not a nest there," Sheik starts, "but perhaps elsewhere."

"What?" His laugh is weak. "Dragons...aren't real, or at least have gone extinct."

"Are you quite certain?"

"Yes—wait, what...do you mean?"

"There have been sightings of a dragon near Death Mountain, even a few Goron deaths and disappearances."

"Yeah...Death Mountain. Not here."

"Ah," Sheik says, "but is it really all that foolish to believe in dragons now?"

Link doesn't answer.

Sheik sighs. "Also, your mother has only been using the pain-killing part of the Heart Plant."

He sniffs. "So?"

"The other part heals wounds at an incredible rate," she says.

"What are...you saying?" Link says, sounding a bit angry. "You think...my mother is withholding it from me?"

"No, the plant has adverse effects, as well, if eaten and taken too often. I meant no insult to your mother."

"See?" he says. "She wouldn't—"

"But." Sheik pauses. "But, these effects set in no matter the part you use. There would be no difference between using the pain-killer or the wound-treatment."

"Again...she would never—"

"I do have a theory, however, why she isn't using it on you." She stops. "And I understand, but we need to move soon. I will give you some tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Link stammers. "Where are you going to find it?"

"Oh, it's common enough." Silence. "Good night, Hero."

Link sighs. "'Night, Sheik."

* * *

He wakes when someone touches his bare shoulder. He realizes the person's fingers are hot compared to his skin.

"Huh?" Bleary-eyed and thick-voiced, he tries sitting up and fails. "Wha—?"

"Link, here."

When Link rubs his eyes, he finds Sheik standing by his side, her hand soaked in red, dripping on the floor. "I-Is that b-blood?"

"No."

He releases a sigh of relief then groans groggily. "What time is it?"

"Just past sunrise."

"What in Nayru's name," Link whines, "made you wake me up so early? I...just want to go back to sleep...maybe this is all some horrible nightmare..." He rolls over and tightly shuts his eyes.

"Link." Sheik prods him with a crimson-dipped finger.

"What now?"

Her face appears over his shoulder. "Did you not notice something?"

"That you're mean?"

She sighs. "About yourself, I meant."

"Well," he says, "I'm feeling much better, so please just leave me—"

Sheik raises an eyebrow. "What did you say?"

Link sighs angrily, which really only happens when he's sleep-deprived. He sits up and glares at Sheik, though a bit nervously. "I _said_ I feel—" His eyes widen. "...much...better...oh." He looks down at himself, at his chest and ribs, now smeared with red. The bruises once mottling his skin have disappeared.

"Good," Sheik says. "Now we must go."

"When you said Heart Plants heal 'incredibly quickly,'" Link says, testing his ribs by taking a deep breath, "I didn't think you meant this quickly."

"Go on, get up."

He reaches for his tunic, which is slightly blood-stained from his ordeal. "What abou—"

A bright flash of light fills the room, blindingly white. Link shouts and covers his eyes, and he can hear Sheik cursing. After a moment, the light dies and the room fades back the weak orange of sunrise.

Link opens his eyes, blinks once, twice. "What...what just happened?"

Sheik looks, for once, openly shocked. "I don't know." She wipes her Heart Plant-dripping hand on a rag. "We should go."

"But my mothe—"

"I've left a note."

"Epona, Sol and Aster?"

"Out front."

Link sighs, and begins pulling on the rest of his uniform. "Fine." He stops once, with one arm in his shirt. "I have a question."

"Yes?" Sheik says from her post by the door, darting a quick glance at him.

"Did you..." He hastily pulls his shirt over his head to hide the blush spreading across his face, clearing his throat. "D-Did you rub the Heart P-Plant on me? I woke up with t-the bruises gone, I-I mean, so..."

"Yes, I did." She seems almost distracted, staring out the door with an odd expression, one of perplexed thought and concentration.

"Sheik?" Link says, grabbing his shield. The Master Sword leans against the wall, and after picking it up, he carefully unwraps the hilt.

"What is it?"

"Are you sure you don't know what happened?"

Sheik stares at him. He fidgets under her gaze, and eventually settles for scratching the back of his left hand, which has suddenly begun to itch. She blinks. "No, not really." She pushes off the doorpost. "Let's be off."

Link pulls off his glove, determined to get rid of the itch, but as soon as he does, it is gone. He tilts his head.

"Is something the matter?"

He continues to study his hand, but there is nothing different about it, not in the slightest bit. So he shakes his head and laughs. "No, I'm fine. Let's go."

Because, suddenly, he feels tingly and hyper, as if infused with a burst of energy.

* * *

**Tempest Bound: So, this is a relatively short chapter. Any guesses as to what happened, people? **


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

The streets of Anlage are nearly deserted at this hour. As they ride along, the only sound is of Epona's hoof beats and the jingle of Link's mail. After a few minutes of silence, he asks, "What are we going to do when we get there?"

"You'll destroy the barrier with the Sword," Sheik mutters. "We'll find those inside and evacuate. If need be, fight."

Link nods, then taps the saddlebag. "Aster? Sol? You two coming?"

It is Sol who answers, a watery, weak voice. "Y-Yeah, we are."

"Good," Sheik says. "If Link and I are separated, I'll need your light to see by. Also, I've heard fairies are knowledgeable when it comes to monsters. Is this right?"

Aster fumes. "Hey, we're not your torch—"

"Yes, it's right," Sol says, interrupting his sister. "Why?"

"Aster, I take it you'll be staying with Link?" Sheik asks.

"Well, yeah," Aster says, then adds in an undertone, "Better him than you..."

"Help him, then," Sheik says, not batting an eyelash at the jab. "We're nearly there."

Epona rounds the last corner, slowing to a stop in the deserted courtyard. She is unsteady in the silence, shifting nervously as they dismount, and nickers, shoving her face in Link's side. He rubs her nose to calm her, but she continues to stamp and chew at her bit.

The Temple is just how they left it, its doors and windows black and nearly opaque. They know better than to try touching the barrier, but Link frowns. "How do you think everyone else is reacting to this?"

"They aren't," Sheik says.

"What?"

"Not this," she says, walking back to the courtyard gate. She reaches down, and there's a flash of light, this time from her palms. Blue symbols appear in the air between the gateposts. "_This_ is what they are reacting to."

"What is it?" Link asks, furrowing his brow.

"You remember the wards? These are mine." She kicks at the symbols, and they brighten for a second and refuse to give beneath her boot.

"But we went through tha—"

"Oh, I placed them before we left," Sheik says, returning to his side. "Before, only one of us could go through. Now, no one can, so we won't be disturbed."

"And Epona?"

"Animals don't count. Only the races."

He nods. "Okay." He turns towards the Temple's entrance and draws his Sword. "So, what do I do?"

"Simply strike it. It should shatter."

Link nods, mostly to himself, and swings. There's resistance, as if he were hitting a stone wall, a sound like crackling glass, and he can almost see black sparks. And then it gives, in a shower of shattering shards and dust. Link ends up giving too much force and falls forward into the door.

He quickly scrambles to his feet, blushing, as Sheik steps through the threshold. "Well, that was eas—"

Then, suddenly, a scream, that of a tortured soul in anguish, one that breaks in several places and rings harshly in the dark room.

Sheik mutters something and takes off towards the sound. Link sprints after her, Aster and Sol flying behind him. They don't make it to the source, a man by the sound of it.

The hallway that had once led to Sheik's room is engulfed in darkness, completely and totally. Link growls and tries what he did before, plunging the Master Sword's blade into the barrier. But it simply glances off, giving off a screech and a sputter of sparks.

"What?" Sheik says, staring at him. "Try again."

He does, and again it fails. "I don't understand—did it lose its power?"

"Yeah," Aster says. "Is it broken?"

"No," Sheik says quickly, making as if to touch it to prove her words. She stops herself. "The gem still glows."

"Then, why?" Link asks, eyes searching. Of course Sheik will know the answer. _She always does._

"I...I don't know."

Her words are almost more shocking than the Blade of Evil's Bane not working. Link chews his lip, then turns back to the barrier, body shaking. "Hello?" he shouts. "Is anybody there? Are you okay?"

There's the sound of a struggle, grunting and panting, pained shouts, but all of one person, drawing closer at a heart-breaking slow rate.

"Yes," Link says, crouching and squinting, as if to better see through the opaque darkness. "Good. You can do it!"

"Link," Sheik says, touching his shoulder. "They won't be able to break through if you—"

A pleading hand dips through, palm up and fingers taut, darkness like smoke, tendrils curling around the knuckles and wrist.

Link grabs the hand, and another takes his, a grip tight enough to leave bruises, and pulls. The darkness acts like thick mud, sucking and sticky, relinquishing its hold jealously, even with Sheik—and the fairies—helping. Hands, wrists, elbows, arms—face.

It's Sepia.

The dark smoke wraps itself around his neck, choking and slipping into his mouth as he coughs. His skin is pale and brittle-looking, and lines have started appearing on his neck, cheeks and forehead, cracking and splitting his skin like a spider-web's strings.

The second Link and Sepia's eyes lock, Sep shouts, and the smoke pours deep into his throat. A pale light blossoms in his chest, above his heart, and drains to his shoulders, down his arms and out of his hands—

And into Link.

Sepia gasps, and even in the gloom, Link can see his left eye—the blue one—fade into red, a vibrant color that shattered his life. His grip loosens, and he begins to slip, all at once seeming empty and hollow-eyed.

"No!" Link shouts, desperately tightening his hold. He can feel Sheik do the same around his waist, but it is too late. "No, Sepia, please!"

The devouring darkness, like a great beast or maelstrom, reclaims Sepia, dragging him back clawing and writhing and desperate. Link dives for his hand again, but the last sound is a gasp and Sep's palm sliding across the stone and disappearing into the black.

"Sep!" Link's hand slams into the barrier. He's crying, beating it with his fists, slumped at the spot Sepia slipped through. "No! No no no no...Sep! Sepia!"

Sheik pulls him back, as if afraid he might hurt himself. He jerks free, continues to beat desperately at the barrier. This time, she pulls him back further, arms around his waist, and simply holds him back as he reaches and cries.

"Sheik, let me...let me go! Sepia!"

"Link," Sheik grunts. "Link, calm down! He's gone!"

"No, please...he's not_...Sepia!"_ He twists but Sheik keeps her grip and will not let go, so finally he collapses against her and cries.

Sheik tenses up, but after a moment, hugs him tight, and he simply buries his face in the crook of her shoulder. She hesitates before rubbing his back to calm him, placing her chin on his head.

"I should've...should've..." Link's words fade to a rasp, then a sob.

"Should've what?" Sheik asks in a whisper.

He pushes away, burying his face in his hands, shoulders shaking and voice distorted through his palms. "I should've saved him. I should've been able to!"

Aster starts, "Link, you can't blame yoursel—"

"Yes, I can!" he shouts, looking up, eyes red and face stormy. "I can blame myself completely. You know why? Because I'm the _Hero."_ He spits the last word like venom, caustically bitter and sarcastic and biting. Sheik winces.

"Link—Hero—"

"No! Don't call me that!" he cries. "If I can't even save _one, single person_..." He trails off, shakes his head. "A mistake is what I am. However improbable—however insane the idea—the Goddesses have made a mistake because _I am no Hero."_

"You can't think like that," Sol says. "Everyone's counting on you!"

"That's the thing!" he shouts, voice cracking. "How in Hylia's name am I supposed to defeat a Demon King when I can't even save my friend from this stupid—" He beats a fist against the barrier—"darkness?! Sheik, I'm sorry, but you're wrong."

Sheik doesn't respond.

"She can't be," Aster whines. "You're the only one who can touch the Master Sword. So you _have _to be the Hero."

"A mistake," Link mutters. "All of it. It probably lost its power." He draws the Sword, staring at the way it glints, even in the darkness. He growls and throws it at the wall and it falls to the ground, clattering against the stone. He buries his face in his hands. "Find some other Hero. I'm no good."

He hears whispering cloth and then footsteps. He looks up to find Sheik standing above the Sword. He frowns, because he heard her footsteps, and usually she's so silent it's startling and—

She bends down and picks up the Sword.

Immediately smoke begins to pour from her hand, where it touches the hilt. She winces, her face contorting in pain, and turns to him. She holds the Sword out to him.

Link stares up at her, hastily taking the blade from her. Sheik hides her hand once the hilt leaves her hand. "Sheik, your hand, it's—"

"It's fine," she says sternly.

"But the Sword burned it!"

She nods. "Yes, it did." She stares at him hard.

Link sighs. "But, Sheik—"

"It hasn't lost its power."

"Okay, yes, it didn't. But..." He stops, sniffing. "But what about the barrier? About Sepia?"

"If the Sword cannot break it," Sheik says, "there must be another way." The words die on her lips. She doesn't say anything about Sepia.

"Y-You have an idea?" Link gets to his feet. "Tell me you have an idea."

"I...do," she answers uncertainly. "One with a high probability of failing, but an idea nonetheless. You've heard of the Temple of Time, yes?"

Link blinks, unsure of where the conversation is going. He hiccups. "Yeah, why?"

"There might be...something we could use."

"Then let's go!" he says excitedly. "What are we waiting around her for?"

A hand on his arm makes him stop. Sheik's face is stony. Link realizes she isn't using the hand that was burned. "Link."

"Y-Yes?"

"If this does not work, or does not go according to plan," she says, "promise me you won't do..._this,_ again."

"I—I promise."

"And," she says, "you will never doubt your Goddess given duty as Hero." After a moment, Link nods, and she lets go of his arm. She jerks her chin towards the door. "Aster, Sol, let's go."

Without the door's barrier, light has begun to pour into the room, and so the sunlight isn't so startling. They stand on the step for a moment in silence. Link spot some plants growing near the courtyard wall and starts walking towards it.

"Hero?" Sheik says. "Where are you going?"

He doesn't answer, simply squats down by some tall grass-like plants and begins to search through the stalks. The rest of them watch in perplexed quiet until he finds what he's looking for, gets up and comes back, hand closed around his find.

"What is it? What did you find?"

"Give me your hand."

Sheik does so, frowning.

He shakes his head. "The other one."

Realization dawns in Sheik's eyes. She offers her burned hand, the flesh red and feverishly hot, her gauntlet turned to ash where it touched the Sword's grip. Link takes her hand in his, palm up, and tightens his fist above it. Red juice spurts from between his finger and drips onto the burn. Immediately, the wound begins to knit itself back together, leaving the skin pink but otherwise completely healed.

Sheik takes her hand back once Link lets go. She rubs her hands together. "Thank you. But I thought you said you didn't know where to find Heart Plants."

"Oh, they're common enough," Link says, smiling. "I guess I just needed to look harder."

* * *

**Tempest Bound: Poor Link...poor Sepia(...poor Sheik?)**

**And, on another note, I _was _so very close to uploading Chapter 13 on the 13th.So _close._**


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